En position, a Phantom of the Opera narrative
by xElisabeth
Summary: When Angélique Fournier is accepted by the Opera Garnier's ballet company, a whole new life begins for her. She finds good friends among the company and makes new acquaintances in the busy city of Paris. But what is all this she is hearing about an Opera Ghost? And who is the man from her dreams?
1. Chapter 1

I could feel my stomach turn when I ascended the big, marble stairs of the Opera house. For years it had been my dream to dance here. _L'Opéra Populaire. _As a little girl I'd fantasized countless of times about belonging to the famous ballet and dancing in the monumental auditorium. All these years of practice, of sore feet and painful limbs, it was all for this.

I perfectly remembered the moment my dad showed me the newspaper. 'Opera house completely burned down because of falling chandelier'. My world had brutally collapsed down upon me. Everything I'd worked for had been for nothing. The great Garnier Opera no longer existed. No more dreams, no more future. But then that wonderful, lifesaving news had reached my ears; they were going to rebuild it.

And here I was, in the great city of Paris, far away from my father and mother and all that I used to call my world. In my left hand was only one suitcase, containing the few personal belongings I had. My parents hadn't been poor, but we never had the money for luxury and decorations. My father was a tailor, earning his money by making clothes for the rich people in my home town. I could recall how beautiful, elegant women would come to his shop and order the most exquisite dresses of satin and silk. How jealous I would be when father finished the dresses and they would be picked up by servants. Until one day, my birthday, he had made one for me. Blue, with small ribbons of velvet and bows in a lighter shade. It had been just breathtaking.

My nerves had gotten the best of me when I finally reached the great, double doors that held my personal heaven. A part of me wished to turn around and go home, but I knew this was what I wanted. I just had to stop being such a coward, I told myself strictly. I took a deep breath and pushed open one of the wooden doors.

The lobby was even more astonishing – though I hardly thought that was possible after seeing the marvelous outside of the building. There were colossal, marble stairs in the middle of the room, the handrail decorated with white roses. On the floor was a large, red carpet and a couple of statues lined the large walls.

'Excuse me_, mademoiselle_,' I said politely to a young woman in tights and a simple dress. 'Could you perhaps tell me where I can audition for the ballet group?'

She curiously looked me up and down – as if to see if I held any threat for her – and then nodded. 'It's right that way, third door on your left.' The arm she had pointed with was slim and delicate, yet showed well-trained muscles. I had no doubt she was one of the dancers and it excited me to have met my first colleague to-be.

'_Merci_,' I smiled, hoping to make some sort of good first impression. After that I picked up my suitcase again and went in the given direction. I was glad I'd asked someone, because the Opera seemed to be even more gigantic from the inside out. There were so many doors, corridors and little passages that I could get lost hopelessly within minutes. 'Third door,' I murmured as I went through it and found myself behind the stage of what would be one of the most renowned auditoriums in Europe – even before the notorious fire.

Slowly, controlled by my fears, I walked up to the stage where I found a small group of dancers. They wore the same costumes as the young woman I'd met before, only differing from each other in color. I nervously fidgeted with one of the loose locks of my hair and bit my lip. I stood uncomfortably at the edge of the stage, knowing my big moment was coming fast. There was a stern looking lady in front of the group and I took it that she was the famous madame Giry, the dance instructor. Silently, I cleared my throat and walked up to her. '_Madame_,' I whispered, making sure not to disturb any of the ballet dancers nor the orchestra in the pit. 'My name is Angèlique Fournier, I came to audition for the ballet.'

She nodded 'Change into something comfortable, I assume you know The Swan Lake?'

'Yes _madame_.'

'_Pas de deux,'_ she said, then turned back to her own little swans.

I quickly made my way back between the large curtains and dropped my suitcase on the ground. As I opened the lit, I was glad I'd put my dance uniform on top of my other things. After I had concluded that there was no one there, I hastily changed into my tights and ballet costume and did my hair in a bun. I let out a sigh; it would be now or never. This was all I had dreamed about since I was little. To dance for thousands of people, to do what I loved the most.

I did a small warming up and danced the part in my head. It was a good thing that The Swan Lake was my favorite piece, because the nerves made it unable for me to think about anything at the moment. But I had seen it so many times already, danced it so many times before, that I could probably even memorize the steps sleeping.

With my eyes closed I made a final prayer, asking Him for the courage and strength I needed at the moment. I heard my heart beating loudly against my chest, as if it was desperately trying to get out. Unknowingly I started humming one of the songs my mother had always sung to me when I was scared. For some reason it always helped me calm down. But before it had even time to affect me, a strange feeling crept up on me. A presence. I grew silent and looked around me, but there was no one to be seen. I shook my head, I was getting paranoid. It was only a matter of seconds before I would go completely lunatic, I laughed at myself. Still, I couldn't shake the feeling off. Shaking my head, I tried to collect myself: 'Time to shine'. Walking gracefully, I came back to the stage, a strange and new self-assurance burning within me. I could do this, I knew I could. 'I'm ready,' I told madame Giry.

'Do you want musical guidance?'

'No, _merci_. Let them dance,' I said, I didn't want them to see me fail.

'Alright then, whenever you're ready.'

I nodded, raising my arms into the starting position_. _It wasn't hard to imagine the music and before I knew I was back into my room back home. My feet seemed to need no instructions and floated over the wooden floor. The tips of my toes barely touched the floor and I was as weightless as a feather when I turned and jumped, feeling as though I really was one of the swans, ready to fly away from the harsh surface of the earth. And as I drew nearer to the end, I came closer to that flight, my body preparing itself for a final liberation. I swirled around the stage and, after what seemed like a lifetime of simply dancing, put my right leg in the front and leaned over. The music in my head went quiet and I finally let my breath go. Applause burst out behind me and I didn't dare glancing over my shoulder to all the people that were now without a doubt watching me. My mind was strangely numb and it took me some effort to move.

All the dancers stood behind madame Giry and they were strangely enough still applauding. It was more credit than I could possibly handle. And I hadn't noticed it before, but even the orchestra had come out of the pit to watch me.

'Alright,_ mademoiselle_ Fournier, you may now call yourself a dancer at the Opera Populaire.' Madame Giry smiled at me warmly. 'My daughter Meg will bring you to your room now, practice starts tomorrow.'

A young girl departed from the group of dancers and gestured for me to follow her. She was small, fragile and had light blonde hair. Everything in the way she moved suggested that she'd been dancing before she could even walk. There was no doubt she was more gracious than the real swans from the Swan Lake and she moved as though every step she took had been part of some great ballet show. 'What you showed back there was really good,' she said to me when we'd left the auditorium.

'Thank you,' I said somewhat uncomfortable. I wasn't used to getting compliments, certainly not from a girl who was this graceful.

'_Maman_ was obviously very impressed by you, we rarely see girls as good as you here.'

'I'm sure there are dozens of girls here that are at least twice as good as I am,' I said, diminishing the huge compliment. It was impossible to believe I was actually that good.

Meg shrugged her shoulders. 'If you say so.. Well, here we are. This is the dormitory, we all sleep here together. It might take a little getting used to, but it really is cozy. We are all family here.' She smiled and now I could easily see that she and madame Giry were related. We made our way through the beds and she led me to a vacant one in one of the corners. 'This will be your bed and your closet. You don't have a lot of space, but I hope it will do.'

'It's great, thank you.' I was used to sharing my room with my little sister, so this wasn't new to me. I just hoped all the girls would like me. Otherwise this whole thing could become a whole lot less fun.

'My bed is just two places behind you, so if you ever need something, just ask. I'll leave you to your unpacking now.'

I nodded and then laid my suitcase on the bed. It probably wouldn't take a lot of time for me to unpack, but I still had an entire Opera house to discover.

'Dinner is at six, it's in the same hallway as the door to the auditorium, I'm sure you can find it.' She turned and left, leaving me alone in the dormitory. I guess it really wasn't much more than a giant basement, filled with enough beds to give all homeless people in Paris a place to sleep. That perhaps was a little exaggerated, but I was sure there were at least fifty beds, which still was quite a lot.

I started humming again as I unpacked my stuff. It wasn't much. Just some clothes, a portrait of my family and some personal belongings. A letter from my mum and the little music box my brother had once made for me. It was a dark wooden box and when the music started, it would open and a tiny ballerina puppet would start to whirl in a pirouette. It was one of my most precious possessions. When I was a little girl, I used to have these terrible nightmares every night. At a point it had gotten so bad that I didn't even dare to go to bed alone anymore. That's when Émile made me the music box. I turned the handle a couple of times and watched the music box open slowly. The famous melody filled the room and for a moment I imagined myself back home with my parents, brother and sister. Then I heard the door open behind me and I shut the lit with a snap. I quickly threw the last few things in my closet, hid the music box behind some dresses and headed for the door. For now I wasn't ready yet to meet the other girls.

I slipped through the hallways, hoping to encounter no one as I searched for a place to think about all that had happened so far. It was more than I could have imagined. But here I was, in the maze of hallways and passages of the Garnier. It seemed infinitely big and I doubted I would be able to find my way back to the main lobby. Those were worries for later though, as I saw that one of the doors was ajar and threw a beam of light in the hallway. I slowly approached, not sure whether I was doing something wrong and prohibited but still on guard. When I peeked my head behind the door, I found a beautiful practice room. All the walls were covered with full-length mirrors and a barre made it possible to do some exercises as well. After a quick scan for any hidden occupants I entered the room and closed the door behind me. I had left my pointe shoes in my room, not thinking I'd have to use them so soon again. Too bad, because I really felt like dancing away my thoughts at that moment. It was my way of coping with things. Instead of talking I danced and for some reason I had always felt a lot better afterwards. That was the thing I had done my entire life.

I lowered myself on the floor and gazed into one of the mirrors. The bun on my head was saggy and my brown hair seemed to try its best to escape out of its prison. It looked a little careless, but I didn't really mind. I brushed a lock of hair out of my face and sighed. This was going to be my home. It was a strange thought, but the more I thought about it, the more I got used to it. Now, it was getting time to make my way back to the dormitory, or I would definitely be late for dinner. I rose to my feet and, after a last glimpse in the mirrors, walked to the door. In the middle of my steps, however, I froze. There it was again. The presence I had felt earlier, back in the auditorium. As if someone was watching me. It was absurd though, there was no one there. Not in the auditorium and absolutely not here. I shrugged my shoulders and left the room.

**For anyone who is re-reading the story; I am busy taking out all the French parts and checking for spelling/grammatical mistakes. **


	2. Chapter 2

Afterwards I wasn't exactly sure how I found my way back to the dormitory. All I knew was that I turned out to be just on time. When I opened the door, the room silenced all at once and I saw a dozen of eyes look at me. It made me feel uneasy since I knew I had been the topic just a few seconds ago.

'Angèlique, there you are,' Meg exclaimed and came up to me. 'I've been looking all over for you.'

'I'm sorry, I was lost,' I confessed as I felt my cheeks redden.

She smiled 'It's alright, really. Now, before we go to dinner, let me introduce you to some of the other dancers.' She pulled me to the other girls.

I couldn't help but look at the ground as we stood before them. Socializing had never been my greatest talent and now I was in a room with some girls I didn't know, in a place far away from home.

'These are Anne Martin, Véronique Dubois, Adrienne Rousseau and Marie-Claire Gaudet.'

I dared to glance up at the group of girls through my eyelashes. They were all tall and slender and – I had to admit – really pretty. This definitely didn't improve the little confidence I had in myself.

'You were _merveilleuse_!' One of the girls cried out. 'People will not grant us a second glance if you are on the stage dancing like _that_.' She was a little smaller than the other girls, had freckles and red curls that bounced when she spoke.

'Adrienne,' sighed a brunette disapprovingly, then turned to me. 'She doesn't mean it that way, it's just.. you were really good.'

'I well.. I.. thank you, I guess.' I blushed and looked down to watch my feet again.

'Can we go to dinner now, I'm starving.' I secretly looked up once more, just to see it was the little redhead again, Adrienne I believed the brunette had called her. 'Meg?' She shouted out in support.

'Alright, alright, come on Angèlique, let's show you the dining room.' The group of dancers made their way through the door, into the corridor. I soon realized that they had no trouble at all finding the road through the labyrinth and a hope sparked that maybe one day I could too.

'So, you must tell us where you learned to dance like that,' Adrienne said as she came walking next to me. 'You must have been taught by angels, looking at the way you moved on the stage this afternoon.'

'Why else do you think her name is Angèlique?'

'Oh be silent, Marie,' the redhead snapped at her, then went on as if she had never been interrupted. 'Well, tell us. Did you have some sort of private lessons with the gods of music themselves?'

I couldn't help but laugh. It was all so ridiculous and surreal. 'I'm sorry, it's just… you are all so beautiful and talented and you are complimenting me about my dancing. It feels so strange, like the world upside down.'

'Well, maybe that means you are at least quite as good as any of us,' the blonde girl suggested and this time she wasn't snapped at by Adrienne. It actually even seemed like there was a silent agreement between the girls around me. Was it possible? Was I really as good as any of them? I couldn't imagine and so I decided to put the thoughts aside.

'So, how long have you guys been here?'

'Most of us were already here before the fire, the only new girls are you and Véronique.' Meg nodded toward a dark blonde who had been fairly silent the whole time. I could easily imagine she'd been just as scared and shy on her first day as I was.

'Oh, here we are. Listen,' the brunette began and looked me in the eyes 'When we enter the dining hall there are going to be a lot of people staring at you. Don't take it personal, it's just the way things go here. There don't happen many things around here, so a new dancer is mayor news.'

I tried to comprehend, but all I could think of were the people behind the door that were probably all talking about me. I didn't like all this attention, it made me even more anxious about making a misstep. 'Okay, let's just get it over with,' I sighed.

As we entered the room everyone seemed to stop what they were doing. They all turned to us – or should I say; to me – and gawked. It was rather awkward, to be honest. I scratched my neck 'Ehm, shall we get something to eat?'

We walked in silence to the small buffet at the far end of the room and got ourselves a plate. That was when the first people started talking again. Soft whispers came from behind our backs and I hated the fact that I was most likely the topic of each and every conversation. Couldn't they just leave me alone and get to know me instead of the rumors? I let out a deep sigh and looked at Meg 'I'm not really hungry, I'm sorry.'

She glanced at my plate, which held only half a potato and a carrot. 'You do have to eat, Angèlique, you'll need all your energy tomorrow.'

'I know, I'm just too nervous and uncomfortable to keep down a lot. Don't worry, I'll just have a big breakfast tomorrow and all be well.'

'Okay, just make sure you eat enough. My mother doesn't like girls collapsing on the dance floor.'

'I will.' I smiled at her and followed the others to one of the few empty tables. As we sat down I tried not to look like the staring and whispering actually bothered me, though I knew the other girls probably had already noticed.

When the others began to eat, I started thinking it all over. I was in the Opera Populaire and I had made it into the ballet group. Tomorrow would be the first practice and I would have to prove what I was worth once again. But I wasn't alone anymore, I didn't have to do it on my own. I had Meg to help me train and I had no doubt the other girls would help me as well if I would ask them to. I absent-mindedly prodded the potato with my fork, turning it slowly into a yellow mush. 'What opera are you... I mean _we_ working on?'

'Romeo and Juliet,' Adrienne answered, after swallowing a piece of broccoli. 'It's rather romantic.'

I nodded in agreement, then asked: 'Could someone perhaps teach me the steps tonight, I don't want to come off like a complete fool tomorrow.'

'You will not, my dear. You dance like an angel, no one will think you are a fool, believe me.' The brunette said softly and laid her hand reassuringly on mine.

'Anne's right, don't worry about it. Besides, we just started practicing, so none of us knows the steps exactly. So if we'll look like fools, we will _all_ look like it.'

I looked gratefully at both Anne and Meg, they had been really kind to me. 'Thank you.. for everything._'_

'It's nothing,' both of the girls said in unison and then, looking at each other, burst out laughing. I couldn't help but smile because of my new-made friends and something inside told me I was going to need them.

'So, where were you this afternoon? We searched everywhere.'

'I don't really know. A ballet room, with lots of mirrors and a barre. I don't exactly know how I got there, nor how I got back, but it was very pretty, though.. well, it's nothing.'

'What is it, Angèlique?'

All the girls at the table now looked at me in expectation and I fumbled with my hands as I tried to find the right words to say. I didn't want them to think I was some sort of psychopath, certainly not on my very first day. 'I-I felt something.. a presence, as if someone was watching me.' I shook my head. 'Forget I mentioned it, it were probably just the nerves. Just forget about it, okay?' Embarrassed about my hallucinations I started prodding my potato once more, but when the five other girls remained silent I looked up again. 'What's wrong?'

Adrienne gave the others a deeply annoyed glance. 'I don't see why you are still so afraid of talking about it.' Then she putdown her fork and brushed her red hair behind her shoulders. 'Did you know the Opera was haunted?'

'It was _not _haunted, Adrienne.' Marie-Claire said, fairly irritated. I didn't really understand what the fuss was all about, but I guessed they had been having this argument for a long time already.

'Very well, you tell the story then, if you know it so much better,' the redhead snapped and crossed her arms in front of her chest, clearly upset.

Marie-Claire ignored the obvious malice of her friend and turned to me. 'Before the fire the Palais Garnier had been in the hands of two _messieurs; _André and Firmin. But in reality, someone entirely different was in control. A man; feared and hated by the world, who had been living in the Opera house for God-knows how long. Everything happened according to his wishes and if not, he would sabotage the opera practices, the sets, on occasions even the cast itself. He sometimes sent mysterious letters to express his desires, signed only with two characters. OG. Opera Ghost. No one knew who he was, no one had even really seen him, apart from a glimpse or a shadow. But then, one day he fell in love with one of the girls here. Maybe you've heard of her. Christine Daaé, she became prima donna after being taught by the infamous Phantom himself for a long time. She, though, was in love with the Vicomte de Chagny, Raoul, whom she knew from her childhood. Their love brought the Phantom to madness and this all led to a final showdown at the first performance of _Don Juan Triumphant_. Without anyone knowing, he took the place of the male lead singer and sang with Christine one of the songs. But then suddenly she took of his mask and exposed his maimed and monstrous face, provoking great fear among everyone in the hall. He then made the chandelier come down and, in the commotion that followed, disappeared with his love, no one knows where to. All we know is that afterwards, Christine and Raoul got married and seemed happy. But they never talked about what happened, as if to erase it from their minds.'

I sat in silence, unable to speak or move. Was this true? _Could_ it be? My own mind was confused and I didn't know if I had to take the story with a grain of salt. Perhaps it were all rumors. Like Anne had said, there didn't happen much at the Opera. 'What happened to him, the Phantom I mean.'

'No one knows.. Some say he left after the big fire, others say he died of a broken heart. My guess is he just moved to another place and finally got himself a life. The facts are that there haven't been any incidents after the fire, nor mysterious letters.'

'There have been whispers about him being back though,' Adrienne said in a low voice, as if she was telling a ghost story, which – in fact – she sort of was.

'There is no proof of that,' Meg said. 'Besides; if he'd be back, _maman_ would know.'

Marie-Claire nodded in agreement. 'Shouldn't we have noticed if he was still here?'

'Well…' Anne said thoughtful, staring at the table 'I _did _see something in the theatre one day. I'm not saying it was him, but it was someone.'

'Come on guys, you are scaring the living daylight out of Angèlique with your ghost stories. Keep it up and I'm sure her first night here will be a sleepless one.'

I tried to smile at her, but it was as if I no longer had control over my body. Despite the fact that he should have been gone for a few years, I couldn't shake off the feeling the story had given me. I was sure I'd felt something today, I knew I had. But could it have been the Opera Ghost? Was such a thing even possible? And if so; what did that mean for the rest of my stay at the Palais Garnier?


	3. Chapter 3

That night, as Meg had predicted, I couldn't sleep. Though it was not fear of the ill-famed Phantom that kept me awake, it were more earthly matters that troubled my mind. I was absolutely terrified for what tomorrow would bring. The ballet repetition wasn't a pleasant thing to look forward to, all the people in it even less. I was sure to mess it up and I preferred to have as few attendees to witness it as possible.

I let out a sigh and tried to make myself as comfortable as I could. Not that it made any difference, though; I had been tossing and turning for hours now. All I wanted was to be back home, lying in my own bed and waking up to the first morning light. Everything would be normal and there I would not have to be afraid of failing at ballet. But, I reminded myself, if I would home then all of this would have been nothing more than a dream. A frightening, scary, yet incredibly beautiful dream. I knew this was what I wanted. It was terrifying, yes, but at the same time it was all I had ever wished for. I couldn't quit now, not now I had finally made it this far.

Another sigh escaped my lips and I pushed myself out of bed. It was useless to keep pondering over this until the sun would come up. I would probably only get more high-strung and it would end in me running off. I smirked, I knew myself all too well. Now, the sole question remaining was what I was going to do next. An idea sparked and I silently crept to the closet en opened it carefully. Without a sound I grabbed out a paper, a quill and an ink bottle. I had wanted to write _maman _about my first day, anyway.

As softly as I could, I tiptoed to the door and sneaked out. Mission accomplished, I thought smilingly. Now I just had to find myself a table, a chair and preferably a candle to illuminate my writings. Perhaps I could go to the dining hall, I mused, there were enough tables and I was sure I would be able to find a candle of some kind in the kitchen.

I started walking as I tried to remember the route the girls and I had walked that afternoon. Onewould say it couldn't be that hard, but the Opera House sure was more of a maze than you would say from the outside. Any way, I could vaguely recall the road to the dining hall and decided to make a go for it.

When I finally reached the right hallway I let out a sigh of relief. I must have gone at least three times in the wrong direction, just to run into another dead end and to have to go back again. Still afraid of waking anyone I opened the door carefully and slipped through the crack. Now I was safe. I laid my paper and quill on the table, put down the bottle of ink cautiously beside it and made my way to the other doors, which – I presumed – would lead to the kitchen.

I concluded I had been right, given there was pottery everywhere and there was an enormous furnace that covered one side of the room. Of course they would need a big kitchen with so many habitants, but the actual size of it still amazed me. I shook my head and continued my search for a candle. Slightly irritated I pulled open some of the cabinets and drawers, but I found nothing but cutlery, some whittles and more pots. 'Dear God,' I exclaimed, then I swiftly put my hand over my mouth. What was I thinking? I wanted to move to the next cupboard when a sound caught my attention and I turned around. Startled, I searched the darkness for any movement, but there wasn't any. Maybe it had been just in my head. No, there it was again, clear enough for me to be sure it hadn't been one of my hallucinations. If this some sort of joke of Meg and the others I was going to kill them. I heard the door creak and instinctively took a step back. But I had totally forgotten about my surroundings and a pan fell clattering on the floor. I cringed and quickly put the thing back where it came from without taking my eyes of the door. The sound of footsteps made me shiver and I began to question how much of the stories had been true. Perhaps the Opera Ghost was still here...

Then the figure stepped into the pool of moonlight and I recognized the face of Anne. 'Angèlique? What are you doing here?_' _She seemed extremely surprised and I couldn't blame her. Who would be so silly to nose about the kitchen in the middle of the night? Apparently, I was.

'I couldn't sleep. I came here in search for a candle.'

'They lie in that drawer over there,' she said and nodded to a cabinet at the other side of the room. So there had the little fellows been hiding.

'Thank you,' I said and walked over to the thing. 'But why are you here, then?' Besides when I made the pot fall, I was sure I hadn't made that much of a noise. Had I?

'I couldn't sleep either, so I went down to get some milk.'

'Got it,' I smiled and held my candle up as evidence. It was a small, long one, so I wouldn't have to worry about it going out all too soon. Not that I was planning on writing all night, because I needed to be fit for tomorrow's dance practice after all.

I waited for Anne to get her milk and then we walked together back to the dining hall. 'I have to admit; you got me really frightened back there. I was about to blame it on the Phantom when you stepped into the light.'

She giggled 'Poor Angèlique, I didn't mean to frighten you. But when I came towards the kitchen, I heard noises and decided to keep calm for a bit.' She rolled her eyes in a meaningful way and gave me sheepish smile. 'I too began to think the Opera Ghost had returned.'

'What a pair we are,' I laughed 'Scared to death by some guy who probably hasn't been living here anymore for years. I'm sure he would laugh at us if he saw how frightened we were back there.'

'I'm sure he would,' Anne agreed, chuckling. Then she drank the last bit of her milk and let out a sigh. 'I'm going to bed now, will you come soon too?'

I nodded, then gestured at my paper and quill. 'I'll be there in a few, alright?'

'Alright,_' _she suppressed a yawn 'Good night, dear.'

'Good night_.'_ I watched her as she made for the door and then turned back to the untouched writing paper. I chuckled softly, I'd really have to start writing now if I still wanted to get some sleep as well.

Carefully, making sure I wouldn't by chance touch my hair, I lit a match and made the candle come to life. It took my eyes a few seconds to adjust to it, but then I put the candle on the table. Dipping the quill in my ink pot, I wrote the date in the right upperhand corner. Content with the outcome – I didn't have a very feminine hand writing in general – I continued writing. 'Dear _maman_ and _papa_,' I tapped the quill against my lip. What was I going to write? I did not want them to worry about me, so I had to be as positive as I could be. That is; without lying. Lying was something I had always hated to do and I had always avoided it when I could. I sighed, pushed back the many memories, and dipped my quill in the ink once again. 'Dear _maman _and _papa,' _I read out loud again, then pushed the sharp point on the paper again.

"Only one day at the _Opéra Populaire_ has passed and I've already got so much to tell you. I wish you were both here. I miss home, my own room and of course you all. Please send my love to Émile and little Madeleine_. _As much as I miss you all though, I can't bring myself to want to go home at the moment. The Opera is wonderful and the people are really nice to me.I have already made some friends and they make me feel at home here. I hope you are all in good health and that I will see you soon again.  
>I wish you all the happiness and love in the world,<p>

your little princess"

I smiled as I wrote down the nickname my parents had called me ever since I had been a little girl. It seemed so far away now that I was here, as if from another life. But I could easily recall those moments that my father would call me and I would sit on his lap. We would talk for hours and I had been such a stubborn kid that he often had to force me into bed. 'My little princess, it is time to go to sleep now. No more arguing, go to bed. The world will still be here in the morning, still waiting for you.'Those were good times. I sighed and got up from the wooden bench. Time for bed_. _With my letter in one hand and the candle in the other, I left the dining hall.  
>It sure was a lot easier to find my way back with the light the candle offered me. That didn't prevent me from getting lost a couple of times, though, but I sure was back at the dormitory faster than I had thought possible. I quickly blew out the light and stepped into the dorm.<p>

As I had expected, I was greeted by an absolute silence and I sneaked back to my bed. I'd better make sure not to wake anyone, because I was certain _madame_ Giry wouldn't appreciate me, or for that matter anyone, wandering through the Opera House at night.

I tucked the letter between my other things in the closet and slid underneath my blanket. A shiver of satisfaction made its way up my spine and I let out a sigh in comfort. My mind finally found the peace it had been seeking and before I realized it, I drifted off in lifelike dreams._  
><em>


	4. Chapter 4

The next thing I knew was a sound breaking through the boundaries of my sleep, jerking me away from the surreal, illusionary images I forgot the instant I woke up. I fluttered my eyes open, just to see the face of a pretty, young, dark-haired girl hanging only a few inches above mine. Startled, I almost leaped out of my bed, but I could just restrain myself and recover before I would scare the living daylight out the other girl with a sudden move.

'Good morning, have you slept well?' The girl said with a sweet voice and she smiled as I ran my fingers through my weary hair. Anne, I recalled her name was.

The happenings of yesterday slowly came back to me as I got out of bed, and I nodded in reply. How strange that I had totally forgotten about my new life. Even when it had only been for a brief moment, it had completely slipped my mind. How that had been possible was still a riddle to me, because I hadn't thought forgetting something as exciting and grand was contingent. 'What time is it?'

'Nearly eight, so we'd better hurry if we still want to eat something before practice starts.'

I felt a touch of gratitude towards the girl. She'd made sure I wouldn't be late for lessons. She'd taken care of me, even when she risked missing her own breakfast for it. It made me emotional and I had to resist the abrupt urge to hug her. Instead, I hastily put on a simple crème colored dress. I would probably have to wear one of the costumes like the other girls too at the dance practice, so I didn't waste more time on my appearance.

As we walked out of the room, I tied my hair in a simple bun on top of my head.

'Thank you,' I said awkwardly after a few minutes of silent walking. I wasn't used to someone looking out for me. Surely my parents had loved and cared about me, but they both had had jobs and had been occupied for most of the day. The only time I would normally see them was in the evening, when they both were exhausted from a long day of work. And even then I was in most cases the one who was taking care of _them_.

'That's okay, I, too, have known the feeling of being the new girl. It's hard, but it will get easier, you'll see.'

I simply nodded again, but her words couldn't convince me. Doubts and insecurity plagued my mind and I found myself trembling at the thought of ballet class. What if I messed up? What if they didn't like me? What if madame Giry would tell me that, after all, I wasn't what she'd thought? Would I be able to stand such a thing? I wasn't sure anymore and all I wanted was to hide back underneath the sheets and to drift off into my dream world again.

'What is it, Angèlique?_'_

'It's nothing,' I shook my head, trying to lose the discouraging thoughts as well. But they didn't seem as easy to get rid of. Instead, they continued tormenting me as we neared the dining hall and I felt the sudden urge to run away. My legs didn't listen to me anymore and I felt as if they could give away any moment. I didn't want to face the other people, I was too scared.

'Angèlique?' Anne softly pulled at my arm as I had just stopped walking in the middle of the hallway.

I didn't answer her and just stood there as one of the marble statues in the lobby. I'd probably fit right in, with my crème colored dress and a face like that of a ghost. Not to mention I had undoubtedly the same look of terror on my face as most of the old, Greek statues of long lost heroes.

Anne's expression changed and for a moment she looked at me upset. Then she put both her hands to her waist and angrily knitted her brows. 'Will you stop that,' she said, almost infuriated.

I looked at her in confusion. What had I done this time?

She rolled her eyes. 'The pondering, and raising yourself to the ground.' She took a step closer and took one of my hands into hers, then she looked me straight in the eye. 'There is no need to doubt yourself, my dear.You are very talented and a sweet girl as well. Please, have a little more faith in yourself.' With that, she gave me a soft squeeze in my hand and looked at me with a look of utter reliance. She had faith in me, it said.

I tried to smile, but failed immensely because of the tears that burned in my eyes. It had been long since someone had said such a sweet thing to me. Maybe it had been even the first time, I couldn't really think clear anymore. With all of my might I forced the tears back, but it was no use. Within seconds my eyes overflowed and the tears streamed down my face. I tried to hide it in my hands and keep Anne from seeing me cry, but she just silently pulled me into her and buried me in a tight, meaningful embrace. At first I was hesitant, but after a few seconds I let her hold me. It was actually quite a relief to have the tears finally flowing. All the sadness of leaving home, the fear of being out of place and the insecurity that had been plaguing me the last two days finally found its way out of my body.

'I'm so scared, and I miss my family so much.' I sobbed 'What if it all goes wrong? What if I mess up? Everyone will be so disappointed in me and I'll have to pack my bags again and go back home.' I cried uncontrollable. Anne was great though; she didn't ask me anything, just held me tight and kept stroking my back comfortingly. I had needed this, I realized as the tears finally stopped coming. I felt so much lighter, as if a weight had been lift of my shoulders and I tried to steady my breathe again. Just as I finally had found my composure back and wanted to suggest to get something to eat, the doors of the dining hall – which had only been a couple of feet away – burst open and a mass came out. Some of them went to where I knew the stage was, others went into the maze of hallways, only a small group walked up to us. I could recognize them immediately. The redhead, the doll-like blonde, another dark blonde and a black haired girl walked up to us.

'Where were you guys?' Adrienne cried out as soon as they had reached us. 'We'd been waiting for you to finally come.'

'But then Adrienne got so hungry that she just decided to eat anyway,' Marie-Claire chuckled.

'Well, if it wasn't for me, now all of us would still have empty stomachs.'

It was only then I realized just how hungry I was. Of course that wasn't very strange, as I hadn't eaten a lot at dinner the day before either. I regretted my outburst a few minutes earlier. If I'd kept my composure, maybe my stomach would be filled by now.

'Fortunately,' Meg said, as she pulled out something from behind her back. 'We haven't completely forgotten about you two.' She gave us both two white bread rolls with cheese.

My stomach rumbled and I felt my cheeks redden from embarrassment. 'I'm sorry.'

'That's quite alright. But I am afraid you two have to eat on the way to practice, as I think _maman _won't be very happy if her dear ballerinas will be late.' Meg then added with a meaningful glance at me. 'Especially not a certain one of them.'

For the second time that day my face got warm and I shyly looked at my feet. I mentally scolded myself for being such a cotton ball. I had blushed two times already and it wasn't even nine o'clock yet. This promised to be a good day...

'Come on, we're already late as it is.' Marie-Claire said as she pulled at Meg's arm.

Meg nodded and began walking. She smiled at me one last time, as if she, too, knew how nervous I was.

We walked in silence through the hallways as Anne and I quickly finished our breakfast. I was so grateful to Meg at the moment. If it wasn't for her, I would have probably had to dance on an empty stomach, something that rarely affected my movements for the better.

'Oh, here we are.' She opened the door and we went into the backstage area of the auditorium, walking up to the stage. Dazzled, I realized my thoughts had completely drifted off again and I shook my head, I should really try to keep my thoughts in the present from now on.

I couldn't help but once again marvel at the magnificence of the place. It must be wonderful to be the prima donna. Standing on the edge of the stage, singing and showing your very soul to thousands of people you knew were all there to hear _you_ sing.

'_Mademoiselle? Mademoiselle _Fournier_?_'

I snapped out of my trance and turned around to see the ballet teacher, _madame_ Giry, look at me in expectation. I stared at her blankly, not knowing what to say or do. The nerves had caught up with me again and I wasn't sure if anything could help me at the moment.

'I asked what your measurements were.'

'O-oh,' I stammered. 'I-I don't really know.'

She sighed 'Alright, we'll get you a fitting costume later, you can put on this one for now.' She handed me a package of linen and gestured for me to go change.

Just like the day before, I ran backstage and quickly changed into the costume and my pointé shoes. The costume was a short, light blue dress and had a pretty ribbon on each side of my shoulders. It was nearly a perfect fit, only around my waist I could feel it hang a little loose. I closed my eyes for a second, praying to God I wouldn't mess up and then went back to the front.

'Ah there you are, you can take a place between _mademoiselles_ Gaudet and Rousseau.'

I did as she said and went to stand next to Marie-Claire and Adrienne.

'Alright, now everyone is here, let's do a couple of silent routines before the orchestra and the singers arrive. From the beginning, just follow my lead.' She said and turned her back at us.

My body was all tensed up for the few seconds of perfect silence that followed. The same insecure thoughts raced through my head again and I was afraid I would go unconscious right there and then. But suddenly I felt a hand on my shoulder and I glanced back.

Meg gave me an encouraging nod and winked at me.

Before I could even thank her, though, I heard the voice of the dance instructor count down and I turned back to see her.

**pagebreak~**

At the time the singers came up all tension had flooded out of my body. Though the steps had seemed very complicated at first, I soon noticed that it was easier than it looked and I was a fast learner. The other girls hadn't been practicing this dance for long, so that made me feel even more at ease. I didn't stand out half as much as I had expected.

Our group took a small break as the orchestra settled in their pit and the singers began to do a warming up in the form of scales. I envied their voices, how beautiful they sounded. Elegant and strong, yet at times as fragile as glass. 'Who is she?' I asked Anne, nodding my head discretely to a young woman with one of the most magnificent voices I had ever heard.

'Clémence Dampierre,' she told me, her voice filled with a contempt that I didn't not quite understand.

I nodded and turned my head to watch her again. The woman was so beautiful and had such a capital voice, that I couldn't possibly imagine what was wrong with her. She wore an expensive looking dress, made of gold and red fabrics. Her long, curling golden hair fell down on it as if it were liquid gold and her porcelain face was almost too perfect to be true.

'What'cha looking at?' Adrienne asked as she came to stand beside me.

'Clémence.' Again the disdainful tone in her voice.

'Oh, I wouldn't do that if I were you,' Adrienne said with a giggle, but then turned serious and came closer to me, still looking me in the eyes. 'She's the devil in true form, I swear.'

I couldn't help but laugh, how ridiculous these girls were acting.

Adrienne furred her brows. 'I wasn't kidding. Just watch me.' She turned and gracefully walked over to the angelic singer who just had finished another scale. 'Hello _mademoiselle _Dampierre,' the redhead said in her most polite tone of voice. 'I just wanted to compliment you on how beautiful you were singing.'

Clémence rose one of her eyebrows, then she tilted her chin slightly and looked down upon the little ballerina. 'Who said you could talk to me, you little ballet rat?' She spat out the words, even more than Anne had done before when she named her.

Suddenly I understood why she had done so. Angrily I pounded across the stage, up to where the two girls were.

'What is wrong with you?' I exclaimed. 'She just complimented you and you snarled at her as if she had just insulted you in the worst way possible.'

'How dare you speak at me like that? Have you any idea who I am, how easily I could get you back on the streets again where you belong? You aren't even worth speaking to me.'

I bit my lip and tried to control myself. I wasn't at all an aggressive person, but this woman really needed to be put back with her two feet on the ground. She might think she was so superior, but someone with a personality like this wasn't even worth looking down upon. 'You're wrong,' I told her, smiling 'It is you who isn't worth talking to _me, _or for that matter anyone here_.'_ I turned my back to her and stormed back to Anne, pulling Adrienne with me.

'Wow,' Marie- Claire, who had been standing next to Anne, said chuckling. 'You sure told her who is boss.'

I instantly turned red. 'I just couldn't stand seeing her talk to Adrienne like that. It was horrible.'

'Madame Giry, you'd better keep your pupils in line, instead of having them shout at me.' A voice sounded from across the stage and I turned to see Clémence complain to the stern woman. I hoped she wouldn't turn against me too, because I was sure that that could make my ballet career a Hell.

'Alright, alright, calm down. What happened?'

'She,' and with that she accusingly pointed her perfectly manicured finger towards me. 'Has insulted me and yelled at me.

I felt my mouth drop and found myself speechless. How was it possible that such a beautiful girl was such a demonical creature? God must have felt extremely jocular when he created such an adversative girl.

'Is that true, Angèlique?'

For some reason I still found myself unable to speak, but fortunately Adrienne made a step forward. 'It was my fault, really. I talked to _mademoiselle_ Dampierre, Angèlique simply stood up for me.'

Madame Giry raised an eyebrow, but didn't ask any further. 'Okay everyone, all back to work. We've got a lot left to do and I think this intermission has lasted quite long enough.'

All the girls quickly gathered around the woman and listened while she told us what would be next. It was all very simple really, we'd simply put the small parts of the dance together and now do the whole thing, then she would teach us the final part.

'In position,_'_ she called and walked up to me. 'Angèlique, I suggest that you take note not to interrupt the singers anymore. It might actually help you to survive around here.'

I nodded, then smiled. 'Thank you_, madame_.'

**~**

**Thank you all for reading my story, I hope you are all enjoying it. And yes, I know I know, the Phantom is yet to come, but I promise you that when he does, he will make a grand entrance! **


	5. Chapter 5

Days went by fast at the Opera House and before I even fully realized it, my first week was over. I had already formed new habits and was able to find my way around the place quite easily already. It felt as though I'd always been there and the group of dancers had proven itself to be a real family. They were kind for me and had never shown any sign of dislike or a feeling of superiority towards me, despite the great difference between our ancestries.

On our free Saturday afternoon we – or rather they – decided to go into Paris. There was said to be a big market with all sorts of things in the centre of the city. Food, clothing, animals, even a small circus. I was quite exited, since I never had been to something like this before. And, maybe even more, because I finally belonged with a group. Meg, Anne and Adrienne were the best friends I could imagine. Despite our completely different characters, we could get along very well and having friends like this made me feel all warm inside.

'Come on, there is so much that I want to do today!' Adrienne cried out as we made our way to the grand lobby. She seemed to be twice as eager to go into town as the rest of us and she couldn't wait for us 'snails'.

'Calm down, already. The market won't run away.'

'No it won't, but it will be packed by the time we get there if we continue at this pace.'

'Why are we so eager to go to this market thing, again?'  
>Adrienne looked at me as if I had just asked her if the Pope was Catholic and then said, wildly gesturing with her hands: 'Because it's fantastic!'<p>

She wants to go to the traveling fair,' Meg explained to me in a soft whisper. 'We have to go there every time.'

I nodded understandingly, then dared to ask: 'What is so special about this circus?'

'What is so special?!' She called out in disbelief and shook her head. 'Everything! They have the most amazing acrobats and there are magicians and a fortuneteller and, and..'

_'_I think she gets your point, Adrienne.' Anne interrupted quickly. 'Well, let's hurry. We can't risk missing anything, can we?'

The redhead snorted. 'You go and make fun of it all you like, but I will not love or enjoy it any less.' No one reacted on that comment anymore, probably all thinking it would be better to just let it rest.

We continued our walk into town in silence. It was not an awkward silence, though, despite the argument the girls had just had. I could easily imagine them bicker over this every week and there seemed to be no hard feelings between them at all. It was just like the topic of the Opera Ghost; I doubted they ever agreed on it, or even wanted to have their right.

I tilted my head a bit up so the early morning sun could warm my face. For some reason it felt totally different than the sun I had felt back home. Warmer, gentler, as if I had never really felt it before. Maybe, I thought, I hadn't. Not like this anyway. I'd always been too occupied to actually take the time to enjoy the warm touch of the sunlight.

My life had changed a lot since I was at the Garnier Opera. Not only my surroundings, but the way I lived, too. The heavy burdens, the responsibility I'd had back home was gone and for the first in a long time I actually felt like a kid. I didn't have to take care of anything anymore, I could finally do the things I loved and it felt good.

'Here we are!'

I snapped back into reality and surprisingly found myself standing in front of a giant tent. Around me were over twenty other wagons, small tents and carriages, spread across a big grass court. The circus.

Meg let out a sigh and rolled her eyes at me, smiling.

I couldn't help but smile back. To her this might have been routine, but I was just as excited as Adrienne was. Perhaps even more. I felt like a small child, looking my eyes out and turning to take in everything that was at sight.

The richly decorated wagons, which clearly belonged to the wealthier gypsies of the fair, were separated from other, dilapidated cabins by an invisible line and I figured that here, too, was a pecking order. Curious as I was, I slowly parted away from the other girls and made my way to one of the decayed wagons. This one was made of dark wood and looked as if it was at least a century old. There were no decorations on it, no lanterns, not even a proper window – for the one which was there was simply a hole in the wall with bars in front of it, as if it were a prison. Again, my curiosity got the best of me and I took even a few more steps towards the cabin. My heart was pounding loudly as I approached the heavy looking door. The closer I came, the more the thing reminded me of a prison, and I wondered what kind of thing would be kept inside it. An animal perhaps? Or goods?

I stopped in front of the door and glared over my shoulder. There was no sight of Meg, Anne or Adrienne anywhere, so I figured they must had gone into the large tent without me. Somewhere I felt a pang of sadness, since they hadn't even realized I'd gone, but for some reason the feeling didn't reach my head. I was too caught up in the cart in front of me. Instead of reaching for the door knob, I moved towards the makeshift window and stood on my toes to peek inside.

It was completely dark inside and my eyes could barely make out anything. The only light was submitted by the sun which, high in the sky as it was, only let a single beam of sunlight penetrate the darkness. I lowered myself back on my feet and waited until my eyes had adjusted to the dark ceiling I could now solely see. After a minute or so, I got back on my toes and silently thanked God for being a ballet dancer, since it had made me used to standing on my tips.

At first the cabin seemed completely empty and disappointment already started to fall over me. That was when I saw a small movement in the corner of my eye. To have a better view, I pulled my face against the cold, iron bars and focused on a small pile of clothing in the back corner of the cabin. It took me a second to realize it was in fact alive and my mouth dropped as I could now clearly see the state this.. this _creature _was in.

Its clothes were dirty and ragged and its hair was a smutty mass on its head. Even though it was partly hidden in the shadows, I could easily see the bones pinching through its filthy skin and compassion consumed me. What kind of life must he have had? Locked in a decayed wagon, away from daylight and life. I felt tears well up in my eyes for the dark fate of this creature and swallowed to keep myself from crying. I didn't want to see any more of this traveling fair, but found myself unable to run away from the poor thing before me. It was beyond me why anyone would be given a life like this. What kind of God would allow this, I wondered.

Unable to think of anything else I could do for him, I reached for my pocket and pulled out the few pieces of gold I had. I'd wanted to buy some dresses on the market this afternoon, but realized he was in far more need of it.

For what seemed like hours I stood there, not moving a limb. I didn't want to frighten the poor, little thing, as it seemed so broken already. At last I coughed softly and it – I still wasn't sure about the gender of the creature before me – turned its head up to me.

Two big, green orbs looked at me in utter terror and a second load of compassion made its way into my heart. 'I'm sorry,' I said quickly 'I did not mean to frighten you.'

It didn't respond and backed away even further against the wall of the cabin. Fear was still locked in its eyes and its body was trembling in anguish. I felt myself wanting to enter the cabin and take this small, frightened creature in my arms. What could it possibly have done to be treated like this?

'Please,' I spoke again 'I wish you no harm, I promise.' With that, I curled the ends of my lips into an encouraging smile. As a further proof of my good intentions, I squeezed my left arm through the iron bars and extended my hand towards him. 'My name is Angèlique Fournier.

The boy – I took it was a boy, by the few features I could see - at the other side of bars didn't move though. My friendly behaviour didn't seem to comfort him at all, in fact it only seemed to make him back away from me even more. He was suspicious, I realized, and I felt even more sorry for him. What kind of things must he have experienced, becoming so scared and mistrusting.

I held my arm out for a few more seconds, then slowly retreated it and let it fall at my side defeated. 'Here,' I said, pushing my other hand - which held the coins - through the window again and offering him the golden coins. 'It's not much, I know, but I don't have any more money. But you take it, it's the least I can do.' As I opened my hand, sunlight caught sight of the golden coins in my hand and they started to shimmer.

His mouth dropped and he looked at me with a complexion of confusion and disbelief. He eyed me skeptically and knitted his brows as if to figure out what kind of game I was playing with him. Perhaps he thought I was mocking him and I'd pull my hand away as soon as he'd come closer. Slowly, he moved. Pulling himself up, he never lost eye contact with me. He shuffled towards me sceptically.

Now he was standing, I could get a better impression of him. He was, as I already thought by the features of his face, a boy. Though it was hard to say exactly because of the emaciated state of his body, I was sure he couldn't have passed the age of ten. He missed the childish curves many of his peers had and his face was sunken, still I could see a shadow of the boy he could be. He kept himself to the shadows, having come to a halt just outside the small beam of sunlight. 'Please, extend your arm, I cannot reach any further than this, ' I said, proving it to him as my upper arm got stuck between the iron bars.

He looked at me in suspicion and then, probably after deciding that I would be no danger to him if I was lying, took another step to me. His face remained in the shadows, but I could see his green eyes still fixed on my face.

As he raised his arm, I smiled at him and dropped the coins in his hand. I looked as his expression turned. Complete disbelief took the place of suspicion and before I even realized it, he smiled at me. It was a rather awkward, weak smile, but nonetheless it made my heart heat up.

'T-Thank you,' he creaked, his voice soar from dilapidation. Then, he bowed his head down in a mixture of shame and fear, then muttered, stumbling over his words. 'I mean, thank you, _madame_.'

'It's just Angèlique. I'm not a _madame_, in any application of the word. May I inquire who I have got the pleasure of meeting?'

He stayed quiet for what seemed like forever, and I took it that he was not going to answer at all. But then he slowly opened his mouth hesitant. 'It's Philippe, _madame_,' he mumbled and stepped carefully forward to shake my hand.

It was at that moment, when he stepped forward, that I could see why he was in here. When the daylight caught his body it all became alarmingly clear. I understood why he kept himself to the shadows and why he seemed so afraid of me. Without realizing I had pulled my arm back through the iron bars and staggered a few steps away from the cabin. All sorts of appalling ideas formed in my mind and I found myself becoming sick. 'Dear God.'

The boy, the poor, famished thing. I could only imagine what kind of life he must have known. Being treated like a monster, a demon, simply because his body looked different than what is common. People would gape at him, laugh and nag, merely because of something he was born with.

I took a deep breath and steadied my heartbeat before I stepped back to the window. I saw the boy, Philippe, had retreated to his dark corner and my heart broke at the sight. 'I am sorry, Phillipe, I really am terribly sorry.'

He seemed to shrug his shoulders. 'I'm used to people being scared of what I look like, _madame_. It's nothing.'

I shook my head. 'No dear, it was wrong of me. But please know, I'm not afraid of you. It was not your appearance that made me stagger.'

'What are you doing? Did you think you could get a free show on the little demon?!'

I spun around quickly and almost lost my balance when I noticed the tall, tinted figure that stood only a few feet behind me. He was coarsely build, with broad shoulders and arms as large as my upper legs, and he had a smile on his lips that sent chills through my body. Even though he had a smile on his face – or perhaps a smirk was a better way to call it – his voice had been filled with venom and controlled anger. I knew that if I wanted to get away unharmed, I'd better not mess with this man. 'I'm sorry, _monsieur_. I-I was looking for my friends. We came here not too long ago and I lost track of them.'

He raised one of his eyebrows, the smirk still remaining on his lips. 'And you were searching for them in a cabin?' He crossed his arms in front of his chest and looked at me with a glance of amusement. Surely he was wondering how I was going to talk myself out of this, too.

Before I could open my mouth though, a voice, heaven sent, saved me from the difficult situation I had gotten myself into. 'Angèlique, is that you?'

I turned to see my three friends walk up to me, all with relieved expressions written on their faces. My own visage looked probably exactly the same, though it was not for relief of finding my friends again. 'Oh, there you are! I was afraid I would never find you guys again,' I exclaimed, exaggerating my facilitation enormously. '_Monsieur, _it was a pleasure,' I curtsied and added in a whisper. 'I won't forget you, Philippe.' Then I hastily headed towards my friends, eager to leave this dreadful place as quickly as possible.


	6. Chapter 6

As we strolled through the lively streets of Paris, I could not help the sickening feeling in the pit of my stomach. For some reason, I could not shake off the horrible emptiness I felt because of what I had seen at the traveling fair. Of course I knew this was no such thing as an exception – I mean; almost every fair had its own 'freak show' – but I felt bad because of it anyway. Seeing Philippe, who was only a boy, being neglected and probably abused, simply because he had a deformed body.

'Angèlique? Angèlique?'

I looked up, confused, and only now realized Meg had been talking to me. Again, I made a mental note to keep my mind more in the present.

'You weren't listening, were you?'

Shamefully I shook my head. 'I'm sorry.'

'Are you alright? You haven't spoken ever since we left the fair.'

I turned to look at her and saw her blue eyes look at me in worry. 'I'm alright, I'm just not feeling very well. Perhaps it's a better idea for me to go back to the Opera House. I don't want to ruin your day off, besides; all I want right now is just to lie in my bed and get some sleep.'

'Are you sure?'

I nodded. 'Absolutely.'

'Guys, hold on.' She waited until the other had come to a stop and turned to us curiously. 'Angèlique and I are going back to the Opera House, she's not feeling alright and I'm taking her to bed.'

'Alright, get well soon!' Anne said and gave me a hug.

'Yes, it's a pity you'll not be able to see the market, it's really great..' Adrienne pouted.

'Thank you, but I can walk myself back to the Garnier. You go with the others and enjoy your day off. I'm sure the Garnier is not far from here and there are plenty of people to help me if I would get lost.'

She looked at me in contemplation and I could clearly see how she was weighing both of the options. Obviously she wanted to go to the market and enjoy the rest of the day, but she didn't want me to get lost in Paris or have something happen to me. 'Well.. I'm not sure, Angèlique. Perhaps it's better for me to just bring you back.'

I shook my head. 'Don't be silly, I can easily find my way back, Meg, believe me. I really don't want you to give up your day, I'll see you guys tonight at dinner.' And with that, I started walking away from them. I heard their loud protests, but kept walking anyway. Where the road I took was heading to didn't matter, first I just needed to get away from them so they would not bring me to the Opera their selves.

After a minute or two, I dared to stop and look around. Most importantly, they had not followed me. But apart from that, I couldn't be relieved. I still felt sickened and the large building of the Opera – my new home – was nowhere to be seen. I muttered a swear, just like I saw the stagehands do every so often. It was not like me at all, but I guess the habits of the Palais Garnier began to grow on me. Shyly, I walked up to an older man who was talking with a pretty looking woman. 'Excuse me,_ monsieur. _Could you perhaps tell me which way the Opera Populaire is?_'_

He looked at me and smiled. 'Well, of course that depends on what I will get for it in return,_ mademoiselle_.'

My stomach turned, I could not deal with another vulgar man today. But as I started to turn, the woman got hold of my arm.

'I'm sorry, dear. My husband finds himself to be very amusing today. Don't mind him. It is right down that street and then, when you pass the park, you should be able to see it.'

I nodded. 'Thank you_, madame.' _After one last glance on the odd couple I turned on my heal and began walking in the pointed direction.

When I finally reached the double doors of the Opera Populaire, I was barely able to keep myself together. While walking, I could not help but look at all the people around me and feel sick. No matter how delicate, how refined, I was sure they would laugh at the face of a boy like Philippe. I was sure that any of them, no matter what class, would gape at him if they would attend one of the shows at the traveling fair.

Quickly I slipped through the doors, leaving the busy, lively Paris behind. Normally, I wasn't much of a silence person, but right now I felt like a complete stranger in the world outside. In all honesty, I did not even want to be part of a world that was so cruel and unkind to some.

Inside the main lobby I once again took in the magnificence and beauty of the building. Even after a week, I still wasn't quite used to the Opera and its grandeur. I wondered if I ever would be, given the fact how I had always dreamed about being here. After a minute of admiration I headed towards the grand, marble stairs that would lead to the public entrance of the auditorium. Perhaps I could hide in one of the boxes, since there would be no one there now anyway. I didn't feel like being around anyone at the moment, especially not one – or even worse; a group – of the shallow, silly girls of the ballet corps_._

At the top of the stairs I held my step for a moment and glanced around. There again was the presence I had felt on my first day. Since then it had become an acquainted feeling and not a day had gone by without me sensing the presence of some sort of _being. _I shook off the feeling – as I always did – and started to continue my way to the boxes when the sound of agitated voices caught my attention. Unknowingly, I had already taken a few steps in the direction of the sound, but I stopped dead in my tracks. I wasn't one for eavesdropping. In fact; I thought it to be very rude and uncivil. And yet I couldn't help myself from rushing to one of the darker corners and pressing myself against the wall. I pricked up my ears and listened eagerly. Oh how much I would be in trouble if anyone would find me standing like this, I thought, half amused, half anxious.

'…assured me all of this would be over,' a woman said, accusingly. It was madame Giry, I realized, as I recognized the dignified tone in her voice.

'Madame, we thought it was. There were no more accidents, no more strange happenings ever since. We had all reason to believe it to be.' A man said in defence, but I could clearly hear how desperate he was.

'Indeed, we hadn't heard from him ever since the big fire, which has been now – what is it – four years ago? How could we have known that he hadn't just died in the fire too?'

'Because he is he, _monsieur_, and thinking of him dying so easily would be rather foolish.'

'But there was never any sign of life throughout the years. The letter that I found this morning is the first thing we have experienced first-handed with regard to him.'

'Very well,' the second, clearly the more cool-headed, of the two men said soothingly. 'What do you suggest us to do madame, seeing you seem to know so much about this.. this subject.'

'I suggest you brace yourself, dear sirs, because the time you could run this Opera freely has come to an end. Furthermore,' it didn't take a lot of imagination for me to imagine her raising her chin prominently 'I advise you to carry out his every wish and certainly not to provoke him.'

'Alright, thank you _madame_.'

I heard the three of them part ways and, when I noticed one pair of footsteps coming my way, pressed myself even tighter against the wall. Luckily, when the ballet head mistress passed my hiding spot, she seemed to be too taken by her thoughts to even notice me if I would have been the Phantom himself, ready to take her hostage and drag her down to my secret base. I let out a sigh of relief when she was finally out of sight and leaned my head back against the cool wall. What had they been talking about that made them so upset? Who was the man they were talking about? Was it perhaps – _could_ it be – about the Opera Ghost? I pondered on that thought for a moment, before deciding not to pass a judgement on the matter until I'd know more about it. That, though, did not make my earlier reference to him any less ironical. The only thing I knew for sure was that they, and I assumed that that would be the two managers, seemed to be clearly unstrung.

I felt myself grow rather excited by this new turn of events and my body filled with a childish sort of enthusiasm as I thought of ways to 'invest' the matter. Perhaps I should ask around about the Phantom, nose out what his past mischief included and find out if this, indeed, has anything to do with the notorious tease. I would have to do it very carefully, though, because I did not want to risk the chance of getting discharged from the Opera House.

I quickly stepped out of the shadows and headed down the hallway. Instead of going right towards the boxes, though, I made my way down ground floor and went to the kitchen. I had no doubt I would be able to find someone there who could tell me all about the rumours.

When I came in, I scanned the kitchen for candidates for my cross examination, but all I found was the chef, who was stirring in a giant stockpot. The chef was an older man, probably somewhere in his fifties, who had grey hair, a small grey moustache and a belly to confirm the idea of cooks tasting their meals. I hadn't talked to him much yet, but he was a nice man who always seemed eager to help anyone if they'd ask.

'Oh hello, _mademoiselle_,' he said when he noticed me.

'Good day, _monsieur_, is it alright for me to sit down here for a moment?' I asked politely.

'Of course it is! And please, do call me Pierre, everyone here does.' He smiled at me en gestured with the spoon as he said; 'On the table over there are some pies and muffins, take some if you like.'

I smiled back gratefully, as I noticed that – now my nausea had subsided – I was indeed rather hungry. 'Is it really alright for me to just take one?' I asked, as I stood at the table he had pointed to.

'Of course dear, take a few if you want. It wouldn't hurt to get some extra meat on that petite body of yours.'

I snickered, people had been telling me that my whole life, but it was simply the way I was build. A good thing, because being a ballerina required my body to be in good shape and I liked nice food far too much to mind what I eat. '_Monsieur_, I was wondering, may I ask you something?' I picked up one of the delicious looking muffins and settled myself on a chair not too far away from the cook.

'Ask away, dear child.'

I cleared my throat and watched the cake in my hand as I said: 'What can you tell me about the Phantom of the Opera?'


	7. Chapter 7

Just like every other night before in the Opera, I could not fall asleep. I wished I could turn on the music box's soothing tune to rock me to sleep, but I was sure the other ballerinas would like me better if it would wake them up.

So, instead of sleeping, I stared at the ceiling and thought over my experiences of that day. The traveling fair, Philippe, the conversation I had overheard between madame Giry and the managers. All in all it had been a very odd day..

When Meg found me that afternoon, I had just retreated to the dormitory after an extremely.. interesting talk with the _Opéra Populaire_'s chef cook, Pierre. I told her I still was not feeling well but, truth to be told, honestly I was just too occupied by my mind to fully pay attention to anything she was saying. Pierre had been working in the Garnier for over twenty years – that is, without counting the period in which the building was being rebuild – and could provide me with enough information to start my investigation. Background info on the former managers, the nature of the accidents caused by the Ghost and of course as much as he knew about the Phantom himself. Not that there was much to know about the latter.

His life and being seemed to be covered in the same impenetrable darkness as he moved around in. No one really knew anything about him. Not a name, an age, not even an image, only rumours. Oh yes, rumours were plentiful. There were only a few things they all agreed on, though.

First of which; the Phantom wore a mask. The exact reason was not entirely clear. The most common idea was that his face was the face of death and that it was too hideous to behold. Other whispers even speculated that he would not have a face at all (How absurd!) or that he simply wore the disguise to look more intimidating.

Anyway_, _there were two more things that were generally accepted as truth within the walls of the Opera Populaire. One of them was also about his appearance, or rather his lack of it. He seemed to be able to vanish into nothing, to move around the building without being seen or heard and he was even capable or making the walls speak for him. This all seemed highly unlikely to me, but I had not questioned Pierre about it when he told me. Nevertheless, there had to be a better explanation, no doubt.

The last, and perhaps most fascinating, thing was that Christine Daae's name seemed to be inextricably connected to the matter of the Ghost. This of course had already been told to me by Marie-Claire on my very first day, but at the time I had still believed it to be an old wives tale. Now, I really wasn't so sure anymore what to believe.

'Ah yes,' Pierre had said when I asked him about the girl. 'She was a lot like yourself, actually. Sweet girl, always eager to help anyone. I think she was a little older than you, perhaps nineteen or something like that.' He chuckled softly when he continued. 'I think I can speak for everyone if I say I was mightily surprised to find her being involved in a matter so dark and sinister as the Opera Ghost. But well, she left immediately after that evening with that viscount, de Chagny, so I presume he wasn't to her liking anyway.' When I asked him what exactly had happened on that particular night, he had simply shrugged his shoulders and looked at me inquisitively.

'If I may ask, _mademoiselle, _what exactly is the reason of your interest in the matter?' Now it had been my turn to shrug – since it would be highly undesirable to have someone know about my research.

'Curiosity,' I had told him. He seemed to be fairly relieved by my answer and I could not help but ask why.

'Because,' the man began and he turned away from his pan. His face was covered in lifetime worries and I could now clearly see how old he really was. 'Because, dear child, the Phantom is no good. Even though he is gone, it's only bad luck to go look for him.'

I had nodded. 'I was not planning on looking for him, _monsieur_, do not worry about that.'

I had not lied when I said I wasn't going to look for him. At least, not really. All I wanted to know was if he really had existed and, if so, if he was still there. My career at the Garnier was much more important and I would not let my little investigation get in the way of that. After all, this job was the only chance I had on a decent life. I was not rich, did not have the connections it took to marry well and to let everything depend on my looks was a little too risky to my taste. I mean, I was definitely not ill-looking, but was my appearance alone special enough to make me a tempting possibility to men?

**pagebreak ~**

The next day, after practice, I quickly cut and ran towards the ballet studio when everyone was leaving the stage. Ever since my first day it had become my favourite place in the entire Opera and I found myself there at least once a day. I liked the quietness and the peace. Don't get me wrong. I don't mind being around people at all, but living together with four dozen other (very nosy and gay) girls was a little too crowded for one at times and I craved a bit of privacy once in a while.

When I arrived I stopped to catch my breath and leaned against the mirror covered wall. I had made it a habit to run all the way – to avoid the chance of being followed – but clearly my stamina was still too little if I ran all the way. I sank down against the wall and closed my eyes for a minute, listening to my heartbeat.

Unconsciously, I had started humming a tune, but I could not quite place it. It seemed familiar and yet, it was like something I had never heard before. Not at all like the stilted music from the Opera.

I looked in the mirror to my own reflection and couldn't help but laugh. I was going mad. Only a few more days and I surely would get bats in the belfry. Still smiling, I got up from the floor and strode towards the door. Though, in the middle of the room I stopped dead in my tracks and closed my eyes again. I tried to pick up the tune once more, but it seemed to have been erased from my mind. Strange, I thought and I shook my head as I made way to the door.

Though I had come to the ballet studio to find some peace of mind, I found myself leaving the room in maybe an even more tensed way than I had entered. Maybe it was because of the ghastly tune – because that was what it had been, despite the utter beauty of it. I couldn't remember it's melody, but I could easily recall the perfect gloominess of the music. And yet, it was probably one of the most enchanting tunes I had ever heard.

I made my way towards the dining hall, as I knew everyone would have probably gone there to chat a little and exchange the latest gossip and fashions of Paris. Despite the blunt sting of being an outsider, I actually could not bring myself to feel bad about missing out of any of this; I was not one for rumours and did not enjoy talking behind someone's back. Because that was what it mostly was about; someone heard something and immediately drew a rash conclusion, which would lead to many misunderstandings and misplaced hostility or shame among the crew. Anyways, I walked up to Anne, who I spotted first in the large room, and took place beside her on the bench.

'Angèlique,' she blurted out 'where were you? You always scoot off after practice to God-knows-where and I was so worried that something had happened.'

I felt my cheeks redden. 'I'm sorry, Anne. I needed some time alone,' I confessed to her. 'Sometimes being around all these people just really gets too much for me and I find myself in need for some space.'

She nodded understandingly, then leaned in and whispered in my ear. 'I just suggest that you do not hide in one of the boxes, they already found out that hiding spot.' She smiled and I knew she was talking about the other ballerinas.

I then, too, smiled and was relieved to know that she did not judge me for my detached attitude towards the group. Luckily, she did not seem to think it was out of vain – which it absolutely was not – and left the subject go. 'Did I miss anything?'

Anne chuckled lightly 'Does anything ever happen here?'

It had been a rhetorical question, but I shook my head nonetheless, chuckling as well. She had not lied when she'd told me the first day that nothing ever happened in the Opera House. Perhaps that was the reason I was so determined to investigate the case of the Opera Ghost, I mused. Or maybe it was because I felt a strange sort of sympathy for him. After all, no matter how monstrous his actions had been, he had done it all out of love. And she had rejected him and left him for another man. Though I understood her decision for leaving, I could not help but feel sorry for the poor man, the Phantom_, _who was left alone and heartbroken.

At that moment Adrienne came running up to us with a sort of bewildered expression on her face. As she saw I was with Anne she let a sigh of relief escape from her lips, but her face still looked troubled.

'What is wrong?' I inquired, as I had never seen the little redhead so bothered.

'It's Meg..' She hesitated for a moment. 'I can't find her anywhere! After practice she left with her mother, who had to tell her something, and I haven't seen her ever since.'

'Practice has only been over for about an hour or two, I'm sure she is fine..' I tried to soothe her, but she shook her head fiercely and I saw she was close to breaking down. It was only now that I noticed how young she actually was, she couldn't be older than fourteen.

'This is not like her at all.' She swallowed hard and looked up at Anne and me with fear-filled eyes. 'What if.. What if _he _has gotten to her?'

'Oh, my dear little friend_, _don't think such silly thoughts.' Anne pulled the little girl into a tight, motherly embrace and tried to calm her by softly cradling her. 'I'm sure Meg is alright. She is an intelligent young woman, she can take care of herself.'

I gave the little girl an comforting smile, but I could not keep my own thoughts from running. Could it be? No, surely Meg had just retreated back to the dormitory after the conversation. Or perhaps she was out with her mother for dinner. Yes, that had to be it. She would probably come back in a few hours, talking about some man who was trying to seduce her.

'I went over to madame Giry's room, to check if Meg was there, but she told me that Meg had already left her for a long time.' Adrienne whispered, as if she had read my mind.

I glanced curtly at Anne, who gave me a short nod and I stood up from the bench. 'I'll be right back.' As fast as I could without running I made for the door once again, hearing Anne soothing her little friend with calming words. I wondered if she herself did actually believe Meg to be alright.

Once on the hallway, I stopped. Where was I going to look for her? I guessed she would not be in the dormitories, as I was quite sure that would be the first place Adrienne went looking for her. Since I still refused to believe she was taken hostage by the Phantom, I decided that she simply sought out the seclusion for some peace of mind – something I for one could perfectly well understand. I instantly felt a pang of guilt, perhaps she did not want someone to go look for her. Maybe all she wanted was to be left alone for a little while. But, as I thought of little Adrienne being terribly upset about the disappearance of Meg, I shook my head. Quickly I set off towards the auditorium, hoping to find the ballerina there.

Unfortunately though, when I arrived at the enormous hall, I found it to be completely empty. Same went for the private boxes, the backstage area, the library and the dormitory. I ran my hands through my hair. For all I knew she was already in the dining hall. Yet, my feelings had gotten the better of me and I felt the desperate need to find her. I decided to check out the costume storage room and then go back to Adrienne and Anne, as I did not know where else to look anymore. I turned on my heels and began my journey through the Opera House. Again. But, as I did not watch where I was going, after only a few corridors, I bumped into someone. We both stumbled back and I rubbed my head. I quickly mumbled an apologize and it was only now that I saw who it was I bumped into. Though the corridor was badly illuminated, I immediately recognized the tall girl who shyly gazed at her feet.

'Oh hello, Veronique.'

She smiled timidly and started walking again, when an idea popped into my head.

'Ehmm.. Do you perhaps know where I could find Meg? I have been looking for her, you see, but I cannot find her anywhere.'

Veronique bit her lip, as if she was considering telling me the truth or not. Then, after a minute or so, she spoke. 'Did you look up on the roof?' I suddenly realized this was the first time I had hear her speak in the whole week I had been here. Her voice was exactly how I had imagined it to be like; soft, quite high and inaudible for anyone who was not really paying attention.

'The roof?' I repeated.

She nodded. 'It used to be our secret hiding place, where we could escape the younger girls and get some privacy. We haven't been on there for a while though, because _Madame_ Giry caught us once and scolded us for going up there. But perhaps you'll find her there,' she shrugged her shoulders.

'Thank you,' I said and watched her walk down the hall, disappearing into the darkness. After she was gone, I pursued my road through the Opera House, but this time my destination was the roof. I did not know exactly how to get there, but I figured I just had to get as high as possible and eventually I would find a door somewhere. As fast as I could I made my way through the labyrinth of hallways and soon found myself on the upper floor of the Garnier. Through one of the windows I saw the sun had already gone down and now the only light left came from the few torches on the walls. It was a good thing I could see fairly well in the dark.

After what seemed to be an eternity I finally found a door which, when I opened it, let me to another flight of stairs. I rushed across the stairs, just to find myself facing another door. 'This better be the door to the roof,' I muttered as I pulled down the heck.

As I opened the door, a gust of cold wind blew right through the fabric of the thin dress I was wearing and sent shudders down my spine. I quickly closed the door behind me and it was only then that I noticed my surroundings. My mouth dropped. The roof was immense – just like the rest of the opera – and the view was stunning. Even from the place where I was standing I could gaze over the whole of Paris and I could only imagine how beautiful the outlook must have been if you were to stand on the very edge of the roof. I shook my head to regain my senses, I was here to look for Meg, not to admire the view.

It was at that same moment I noticed a dark shape, hunched over at the ledge of the roof, making it almost impossible to make out in the night. If I hadn't come here with the presumption of finding Meg, I probably would not have been able to distinguish her shape against the dark of the roof. I let out a sigh of relief and hasted towards her.

**Merry Easter everyone!**


	8. Chapter 8

As I came closer, my expectations where confirmed. When I was only a few inches away from her I let out another sigh of relief, as I did not want to scare her by appearing out of nowhere.

She looked up, startled and swiftly wiped off her cheeks with the sleeve of her dress. I now noticed several reddened spots on her face, even in the little light I had they formed a painful contrast with the porcelain skin of the rest of her body . She had been crying, I realized. I wondered why. 'Meg, I.. we lost you,' I stumbled as I stood awkwardly beside her petite form.

She tilted her head up and sniffed once more, before she cracked 'I'm sorry, I did not know I had been gone for such a long time.'

I lowered myself upon the cold roof and fumbled with my thumbs. 'It's quite alright. We were just worried about you, that's all, wondering if you were alright.' I hesitated '_Are _you alright?' Almost immediately afterwards I mentally scolded myself for asking her. Of course she was not. Why else would she be all alone up here, crying.

Meg shrugged 'I-I am not sure,' she said, her voice trembling from the many tears she was keeping back. She softly rocked her body back and forth, as if to comfort herself. An awkward silence followed in which we both gazed down to the city at our feet. It was a strange thing to imagine that in every single house down there, a family was living. Each with their own life, their own world and their own story. I wondered what they were doing now. Were they, too, watching the night fall slowly on the grand city of Paris? Were they perhaps tucking in their little children, telling them stories about courageous knights of ancient times and beautiful princesses in lavish dresses?

I tore my gaze away from the city and studied the face of the young girl beside me. It was strange how I actually knew so little about her. No origin, no past, not even an age. All I knew was her name and of course her mother, the ballet instructor. I figured she couldn't be much older than I was. Eighteen, nineteen, perhaps? Yet the worries that tainted her forehead made her seem so much older, so much wiser than the girl she normally was.

'Do you want to talk about it?' I offered, not sure what else to say to her.

She stayed silent for a moment, but then shook her head. 'No, it is alright.' Then she stood from the cold ground and looked at me, a weak smile plastered on her lips. 'Are you coming? I don't want you to catch a cold.'

I watched her for a second before I nodded and followed her towards the door. It was obvious the smile and the positive attitude were merely a façade – probably even one to keep me from worrying – but I decided not to press her any further about the matter. If she was ready to tell, I trusted her to do so herself. In the mean while I would simply try to be there for her and support her as much as I could.

When we finally entered the dining hall it was almost completely empty. Apparently it had taken me longer to find Meg than I had thought.

Suddenly the blonde beside me skidded to a halt and turned to face me. 'Do I look decent?'

I thoroughly inspected her face and, when I found that there were no indications anymore of the fact that she'd been crying, I nodded. When we walked towards the dining room, I had noticed how the broken, little girl I'd found slowly turned back into the strong ballerina I had become used to and I couldn't help but wonder how many times she had done this before.

'Meg, oh I was so worried!' Adrienne exclaimed as she caught eye of us and leaped up from the table. In a matter of seconds she had bridged the distance and threw herself around Meg. It was obvious her worries had not decreased in my absence.

'You silly, I'm quite alright, no need to worry about it.' Meg smiled comfortingly and stroked the little redhead over her head. It was hard to see that this, too, was only a counterfeit, even for me.

'Where were you, anyways? I looked everywhere!'

'I eh..' Meg started, but I interrupted her.

'It was quite coincidentally really,' I said, adding a fake laughter for the credibility. 'I just came back from auditorium when I bumped into her. At first I did not notice and I was at the point of moving along when I actually realized it was Meg. It was rather foolish of me.'

Anne nodded, though I was not exactly sure if she believed my fairly ill lying skills, and gestured towards the buffet. 'I have asked Pierre to set some food for you two aside, as I presumed you'd be hungry from all the practices earlier.'

I thanked her, as it was only now that I noticed how hungry I really was. Not that that was strange, as it had been since noon when I last ate something. My stomach grumbled as in conformation and I blushed heavily. Back home, my mother would surely have granted me a disapproving glance, as it was very uncivilised, not to mention terribly un-ladylike as well. 'If you will excuse me, I believe my stomach is no longer accepting its empty state and I think I agree with him.'

Adrienne giggled 'Better get some food from the kitchen then, I rather not have you starting to eat away at my body.'

I returned the smile and turned on my heel. As I started towards the kitchen, I heard the laughter of the young girls fill the hall and I could not help but wonder how much of this Meg was faking. Perhaps I was just overreacting and the reason Meg had been up on the roof wasn't something to fuss about, but something in the pit of my stomach made me believe otherwise – and it surely wasn't the hunger.

When I arrived at the kitchen I almost bumped into Pierre who was humming a cheerful tune while mopping the floor. He didn't seem to notice my presence and so I delicately cleared my throat. I waited a few moments, then repeated the action, a bit louder this time though.

At long last, after two more attempts to catch his attention, the older man looked up and he smiled genuinely when he recognized me. 'Ah _mademoiselle_ Fournier, I was already starting to wonder if you had forgotten about your dinner.'

I politely returned the smile. 'Why no sir, I would not want to miss one of your delicious meals for the world. I truly cannot believe that they serve better food in any of the many fancy restaurants here in Paris.'

He chuckled. 'Well you sure know how to coax an old cook's feelings. If you are just as charming towards the men your age I'm sure you will be married and settled with a count or royal in no time. Or has some particular man already claimed your heart, if I may be so bold to ask.' He winked playfully.

'No, not at all sir. My mind is too occupied by the ballet currently to think of anything beside the dances.'

'Ah yes, I am sure madame Giry knows how to keep you young girls busy. She can play the act of old hag quite well, but it really is only because she cares for her little ballerinas. She does not want any of you to get in trouble. Speaking of which, I hope you did not do anything rash after the things I told you about the Phantom.'

'No, _monsieur. _It was mere curiosity, nothing more than that. I do not wish to let myself in with things as malignant and darksome, you should not worry about that.'

He nodded, then quickly gestured towards the furnace on which two large pots were standing. 'I almost forgot, your food is over there. You'd better get it now it is still a bit warm.'

'Thanks,' I said and started filling two plates with the spaghetti and sauce from the pots. When both plates were full of piled high spaghetti and a lot of the red, Bolognese sauce, I thanked Pierre once more time and then carried the food back to the others. 'Dinner time!'

As Meg and I ate our meal we were fairly quiet. Only Adrienne, who seemed to have gotten back to her old self again after she saw Meg was alright, kept on chattering away, though I doubt anyone was really paying attention to it. My mind was still with the Meg I'd found on the roof and by the look on her face, I knew Meg had not forgotten about it either, despite the attempts she did to appear happy.

Suddenly Anne rose from her seat and rubbed her forehead 'I'm sorry, if you will excuse me I will be going to bed. Today's tension has really gotten to me and to be honest, I can hardly keep myself from falling asleep.'

I nodded understandingly and wished her a quick good night between two bites of the delicious spaghetti. It was only when I continued eating, and saw my half-empty plate, that I noticed that Meg had barely touched her food. She'd been simply pushing the pasta around her plate, playing with the sauce and the strings more than bringing it to her lips. But before I could even open my mouth to comment about it, a cry of pure mortal fear filled the opera house.

I looked at the others with wide eyes. Meg's face had turned deadly pale and Adrienne was trembling from top to toe. It had been a woman. 'Anne,' I breathed and jumped from my seat on the bench. We should've never let her wander the Opera House by herself at this hour. Who knows what might have happened?

When I turned around I saw only Adrienne behind me. Her face was filled with a fear I had not seen before, but her eyes looked firm. Meg was still sitting on the bench, her face now completely like that of a dead body, as her eyes motionlessly stared into the distance. 'We'll be right back,' I told her – though I doubted she heard a single word I said – and we raced through the door. The sound had come from the left, I recalled, and so we ran as fast as we could, straight towards the auditorium.

'What could have happened?' Adrienne asked me, her breathing coming in thrusts as she struggled to keep up with me. After all, my legs were almost one and a half time the size of hers.

'I don't know, but I doubt it is something good.'_  
><em>


	9. Chapter 9

When we reached the auditorium, the first thing I noticed was the group of people on the stage. Had one of them screamed? Was nothing wrong, then? I skidded to a stop – Adrienne noted only just in time to stop herself from running in on me – and looked at the crowd in confusion. It was only then I saw the small figure they seemed to be gathered around.

'Why are we..-' Adrienne started but I held my hand up in a way of silencing her. I tried to pick up the words that came from the crowd, but they spoke too softly to make out words.

I grabbed hold of the little girl's arm en made my way through the endless rows of red seats.

None of the people on stage seemed to notice us – or they simply chose not to pay any attention to us. They kept speaking to each other in soft, agitated voices, occasionally casting meaningful glances at the figure on the floor.

'…supposed to do?'

'…cannot just leave this be, someone should inform the managers.'

'…they do? Close the opera?'

I looked to the right and saw that Adrienne was just as confused as I was. Clearly, she had no idea about what they were talking, either. I beckoned her to follow me and swiftly made my way to the stage.

As we approached, some of the people actually turned towards us for a second or two, but again, none of them really seemed to care. At that moment, I saw what they had all been gathered around in the first place. A woman, small and with a head of golden hair, sitting on the ground with as pale a face as dead itself and a look of terror engraved upon it. Clémence Dampierre. A sigh of relief escaped my lips before I knew it and, though quite inappropriate, I did not even feel bad about it, as I was greatly relieved that it had not been Anne.

'Could someone please explain to me what, for God's sake, could be urgent enough to wake us up in the middle of the night?'

I turned around, just like the rest of the crowd, to see two men in dressing gowns enter the stage. I had not seen them in the short time I'd spent in the Opera so far, but the voice had sound familiar. Now drenched with irritation – probably due to the interruption of his peaceful sleep – it took me hardly any effort to recognize it as the desperate, less rational one of the two managers I'd heard while eavesdropping. As I studied the man, I came to the conclusion that his voice was a perfect match with his appearance.

His fubsy, plump shape and the round, puffy red head that balanced on the fleshy shoulders stood in sharp contrast to the taller, more slender man beside him. His dark hair fell flatly over his pale face and two dark orbs observed the world in a rational, almost sceptical sort of way.

'Excuse me, ladies and gentlemen, could someone please be so kind as to explain what is going on here. And of all times, at this late hour?' It was only then he spotted his prima donna on the floor and he prodded his partner.

Whom, on his turn, shrieked and rushed towards the young woman. '_Mademoiselle_, what happened?'

_Mademoiselle_ Dampierre did not answer him and I actually doubted she was even capable of making any sort of noise at this moment at all. I hadnhad never seen her like this before and I almost felt sorry for her. Almost.

'Someone, help the lady up and get her to _monsieur_ Houbert.' The taller man said tiredly and sighed as he held a hand to his face. _Monsieur _Houbert was the residential doctor of the Opera and was a man is his late fifties. He had white-grey, thinning hair and always seemed to have a friendly, yet at the same time professional expression on his wrinkly face. I had only been at his office once, when Marie-Claire had caught a nasty cough and I'd offered to walk with her, but I had taken an immediate liking to the man.

Almost immediately, two younger women parted from the group and supported _mademoiselle_ Dampierre while slowly disappearing from the stage. I very much doubted that _monsieur_ Houbert would be able to find any symptoms of a disease though. She seemed to be merely scared, frightened to death by something. Or someone..

After the fleshier one of the managers told everyone to retreat to their rooms, the stage started draining and people scattered into different directions. It was at that moment I noted something lying on the smooth wooden surface of the stage, on the exact spot where _mademoiselle _Dampierre had been sitting not a minute ago.

Apparently, Adrienne had seen the piece of paper as well, as she feverishly started plucking at my left arm.

I took a few steps forward to look at the letter more closely, but before I could see anything besides a gigantic red, broken seal the letter was snatched from the floor by no one else than madame Giry.

'I suggest you two girls go to bed, as it is late and I don't want tired ballerinas at my practice tomorrow morning.' She tugged the letter in one of the pockets of her black dress and, after a short nod towards us, gracefully turned on her heel.

When I was sure the ballet instructress was out of hearing distance I shared my confusion with Adrienne. What had happened to the Prima Donna? What was in the letter? And was it possible that all this had to do with the Opera Ghost?

**pagebreak~**

The next days went by very similar to all the other ones I'd spent in the Opera house. Little suggested that something strange had happened, such as an 'attack' on the leading lady soprano. It were little details though, that gave away the truth. _Mademoiselle_ Dampierre was noticeably less vile and seemed distracted, at times even nervous when being on the stage. But, like I said, if one didn't know about the incident, he would probably not note any difference.

Meg kept up her strange behaviour, something that rather worried me. Though she tried to keep it hidden for everyone, it was perfectly clear to me that something troubled her mind greatly. For example, when we told her about the occurring on the stage, her face turned awfully pale and she wasn't able to mutter a word for at least ten minutes. I didn't know quite what to make of it, but it bothered me nevertheless.

On Wednesday though, something happened. An hour or so after practice, Adrienne practically ran up to me, a smile from ear to ear plastered on her face. 'Angèlique! I just ran into _madame_ Giry and she wished to speak to you. It is about the next production. Isn't that exciting? Dear God, I am so happy for you.'

I looked at her in confusion. 'Happy for me? How so, if I may ask?'

'Oh you silly. Why else would she want to talk to you personally, than to tell you that you are getting the lead?'

I thought about that for a second. Was it possible? Sure, the instructress had commented me several times about my dancing, but was I really good enough to get the lead so soon? 'Are you sure, Adrienne?'

'See for yourself,' the young girl said and started towards the ballet instructress's room.

For a few minutes we walked in complete silence, but then a loud clamour made us stop dead in our tracks. A door to our left burst open and a servant hurried out and passed us with a look of terror on his face.

'And don't ever let me find you snooping around in my room again,' a woman's voice yelled threatening after him, then continued muttering to herself 'good thing I'd forgotten my soap, otherwise he'd.. Never mind, all is good now, time for a much needed bath.'

Clémence Dampierre, I suddenly realized. Marie-Claire had told me about some diary she's supposed to keep and in which she would have written about the attack. I did not know if it was true, but her behaviour the last few days left loads of room for speculations like that.

I already started to walk on, when Adrienne stopped me. 'This is our chance. If we ever want to find out what has happened, what was in that letter, we have to do it now.'

'Adrienne, I don't know if..-'

'Angèlique, I know it's in there. I've seen the diary, I'm quite sure it's in there. When will we ever have a chance like this again?'

'But we can't simply intrude her privacy,' I objected.

'Yes we can. And as a matter of fact, we will. Or rather, you will. I will keep watch while you go in and search for it. It's a small, dark blue book. Won't be hard to recognize, as it has her name in golden letters on the cover.'

'But..-'

'Go!' And with that, she pushed me towards the door.

I sighed and, after a last look over my shoulder, slipped through the crack.

As soon as I stepped foot in the room of the lead singer, I knew I'd made a mistake by coming there. If we – or rather; I – would be caught, there was no way of justifying my actions. I had no business there and even if I would be able to come up with a tolerable lie, there was no way I would manage to make it sound credible.

I shook off the heavy thoughts, while I was here I'd better use my time in looking for the diary, so the risk we took would not have been for nothing. Alright, if I was _mademoiselle_ Dampierre, where would I hide my diary? Beneath my mattress perhaps? In one of the desk drawers? I quickly checked them, but both were empty of the sought-after, letter-bound book.

I sighed, where else could it be? In the dressing table? That was, after all, one of the places she probably spent the longest. I swiftly moved to the other side of the room and, after listening at the bathroom door for any indication that the singer would be back in the room soon, started searching the drawers. Besides some brushes, hair pins and handkerchiefs it was empty. In the second I found nothing, either, but hair accessories and a few trinkets she'd most likely gotten from admirers.

I was just about to open the third and last drawer, when a sound made me cease my doings and turn around. At first I saw nothing peculiar and I was about to turn back to the last drawer again when I saw a small movement in a dark corner of the room. Dark boots, black evening attire, a black coat and above that a ghost white facial. No, not a facial. Half a mask*****.

I stopped breathing as I waited for him to make a move. He didn't however. He simply laid his finger on his lips and dropped the letter, which I now noticed he'd held in his hand, on top of the nightstand. Before I could come back to senses, he had disappeared into nothing. The Phantom of the Opera.. we'd met at last.

*** Author's note: **I have been debating for a while whether to follow Gaston Leroux's description of the Phantom's appearance or the one used in the movies and plays, where only half of the Phantom's face is disfigured and his body is normal. At first I wanted to follow Leroux's portrayal of the Ghost, as I don't want to raise the idea that my main character could possibly fall for or befriend the Phantom because he is not fully deformed. However, I have decided against that, because to me Gerard Butler really is the Phantom and he is how I depicture him to look, sound and be like in my head. His voice is absolutely mesmerizing, especially when he's yelling or singing the brutal parts in, for example, 'Point of no return'.


	10. Chapter 10

After a moment of complete motionlessness, I came back to my senses and remembered where I was and more important; what I was doing there. However, before I could even get back to what I was doing, a sound from the bathroom made me startle for the second time. It was time for me to leave, I quickly decided and made my way through the door before Clémence could return to her bedroom.

As I slipped back through the crack, I clumsily bumped into Adrienne, who was right outside the Prima Donna's room. She'd clearly taken her job as guard very serious, as she was completely startled from the attack on her back.

'Sssh, it's just me,' I whispered in her ear, hoping that that would keep her from making a lot of tumult. When I was sure she would not fly at me or start screaming, I slowly released her from my grip and pulled her along the hallway, far away from miss Dampierre's room.

When we'd traversed several corridors I finally stopped and Adrienne was no longer able to restrain her excitement.

'Did you find it? What did it say?'

I cautiously looked around me, to make sure no one was eavesdropping on our conversation. 'I did not find it.' She opened her mouth to protest, but I was not finished yet. 'However.. I came across something else that was at least as interesting.'

The young girl's eyes widened at this new, surprising twist of what had started as an ordinary day. 'What ha..-'

But before she could get another word out, a stern voice cut her off in midsentence. 'Angèlique, there you are. Didn't _mademoiselle_ Rousseau tell you I wish to speak to you?'

'She did, _madame_, I was actually just on my way to your room.'

_Madame_ Giry simply nodded, then gestured me to follow her. 'Come, if you want to be back in time for dinner, it's best we set off our conversation soon. Alone,' she added, casting a glance towards Adrienne.

'I'll see you at dinner then.'

'Tell me _everything_,' she said and I did not miss the double meaning of her words.

**pagebreak~**

When I left _madame _Giry's room, at last, it was well over nine o'clock. I could barely keep myself together and it took me all my strength to place one foot in front of the other. What exactly had exhausted me so much I did not know, as my physical activity had not been much more exhaustive than on any other day. Perhaps it was just stress. In any case_, _all I really wanted right now was just go to bed.

Adrienne had been right about the ballet instructress's motive. _Madame_ Giry had started by telling me about the new opera we would start practicing for in about a week, Hannibal. She had briefly informed me about the storyline and then went on about the ballet routines in different acts of the piece. To be quite honest, I had barely heard one word she'd said. Though normally I loved everything that involved dancing and music, this time my mind was too occupied to even really hear what the woman was telling me. When she finally broached the subject of my participation in all of this, my mind had completely wandered off and it took me all my strength to take note of what she was saying. From what I could recall afterwards, she had told me about the construction of the ballet choreography and how there were supposed to be two prima ballerina's in the part. As I had expected, the first one was going to be Meg, as she was the most experienced and, in my opinion, the most gracious and talented dancer in the company. And, although I was the newest of the dancers, _madame _had decided to give the second lead to me. She believed I could become one of the greatest ballerinas the _Opéra Populaire_ had ever seen, she confided in me. I had tried to smile and look grateful, but I simply couldn't manage to make it believable. Even _madame_ Giry noticed I wasn't quite myself, as she worriedly leaned into me and asked me if I was feeling ill. As I did not feel like explaining what was really going on – there was no way I could ever explain to her what I was doing in Clémence Dampierre's room in the first place without losing my good name – I simply nodded. After giving me another worried look, she had dismissed me, advising that I would go straight to bed and saying that she would send someone with some tea to the dormitory, as it would cause me to sleep better. Again, I just let it be and, after a brief good night, left for the dormitory.

When I look back on it, I can't even remember how I got back to the dormitories, as my mind was so clouded and occupied that I could hardly remind myself to breathe once in a while. Therefore, I thought it afterwards to be quite a miracle that I didn't bump into walls or end up getting lost in the labyrinth of corridors.

I was fairly surprised – and relieved – to find the dormitory to still be completely empty when I arrived, but I couldn't bring myself to think of a reason why. All I really wanted was to go to bed and just forget about all the unusual things that had happened today. My bed finally came into view, just a few more steps, I told myself.

I let out a sigh and, just when I was about to let myself drop on the mattress, my eye fell on something in the middle of the bed. I froze in mid-step.

There, on the very centre of my bed, in sharp contrast to the dark cloth of my blanket, was a letter. However, this was no ordinary letter. On the front were only two words written '_Mademoiselle _Fournier'. No address, just my name, written in red ink. Carefully, as if I was afraid it would bite me, I reached for the paper and brought it to my face. My hands quivered and I forgot to breathe once again. Though I really didn't want to know, I slowly turned the envelope. My heart stopped, again. No fearful message or threatening words, no. A large red seal adorned the backside of the envelope. A red skull. The same one that I'd seen on the letter on stage, the same one that was on the one the Phantom had held, back in the room of _mademoiselle _Dampierre. I felt my legs buckle beneath me and I let myself drop on the bed. What was I supposed to do? Whatever was in that letter, it couldn't possibly be something positive. Did I really want to know what the Phantom had to say to me? Rather, what would happen if I did not read it?

I sighed, as I realized I had not much of an option. If I would choose to ignore the letter, something bad was sure to happen, as I knew there was no way the Phantom would fail to notice. So, with shaking hands and a rapidly beating heart, my hands started fiddling at the seal. When it finally broke, I took a deep breath and pulled out the piece of white paper. When I'd opened it, my eyes were met with the same neat handwriting and the words were printed in the same blood red colour. I tried not to think of the possibility of it being actual blood, and started reading. 'Dear _mademoiselle_,

As you may or may not have already concluded, it was I, the Opera Ghost, you've met earlier today in the dressing room of our lead Soprano, _mademoiselle _Dampierre. It was not my intention to frighten you and I appologize if this is exactly what I did. It is best our little rendez-vous stays between the two of us and because of that I suggest that you will not tell a single soul.

Opera Ghost.'

Was this some sort of joke from the girls? I wished it was, I truly did, but something inside me told me that this was real. What I'd seen, what I'd read, no matter how unlikely, was just as real as the existence of humans and the necessity of oxygen for us in order to live. And therefore, I knew there was no point in denying the truth.

'Ah, there you are. _Maman_ told me you had gone straight to bed and asked me to bring you a nice cup of herb tea, hopefully it will make you feel a little better.' She gave me one of her sweet smiles and placed the cup on my nightstand. Caught up as I'd been in my own thoughts, I hadn't noticed at all that someone had entered the room.

'Thank you, Meg, I really appreciate it.'

'What's that? Did your parents finally write back. Tell me, what did it say?'

'No, it's nothing.' I said as I quickly put the paper back in the envelope and, making sure that she'd not see the characteristic skull seal on the back, put it in the drawer of my nightstand. 'Just a letter I got from my brother. A long time ago. I really miss him, you see?' My voice was shaking and the words came out rather strange. However, Meg seemed to take it as a token of how much I really missed my family, as she comfortingly laid an arm on my shoulder.

'I know it's difficult. Many of the girls have a hard time adjusting and being away from their family, but it gets better. You can write them and in the Christmas holiday you can go to visit them if you like?'

I tried to smile, but didn't manage very well, as I really did feel awful. Not because I missed my family so much – which I did, of course – but because of lying to Meg. Sweet, darling Meg who had been so nice to help me from the very first moment and who had immediately accepted me as a part of the group, even though I was not rich or some sort of noble. And here I was, betraying her trust. It made me feel so horrible and yet, I didn't feel like I had another option. 'Thanks again for the tea, Meg. I'll just wait until it has cooled down a bit, drink it and then go to sleep. I really had a long day and I'm quite exhausted.'

She nodded. 'That's alright, I will be going back downstairs then. If you need something, don't be afraid to ask, that's what friends are for.'

'Thank you._'_ I tried to swallow the lump in my throat. Why did she had to say that? Why did she had to say the word 'friends'? Was it possible to make me feel even guiltier, even more in the wrong? I watched as she left the room and, for the first time in my time at the Opera, I wished everything to be a nightmare, from which I would hopefully soon wake up.


	11. Chapter 11

The next day was possibly even worse. Though I didn't run into the Phantom, get letters from him or was indirectly threatened by him if I would betray him, I found myself once again in a difficult situation. And this was even before I had finished my breakfast.

When I got down for breakfast, a part of me somehow was still secretly hoping that all of yesterday had been a bad dream. In fear of having to face the truth, I didn't open the drawer in my nightstand at all and immediately dressed instead. But now, as I saw Adrienne coming up to me, I realized the time of playing pretend was over.

'There you are! Meg told me you were feeling ill yesterday.'

'Yes, I wasn't feeling quite like myself, but I'm all better now.'

She nodded, then took another step towards me and continued in a low voice 'So, what was it that you needed to tell me?'

I had to lie. Again. 'Oh I was just taken back about the amount of trinkets she's gotten from admirers. She had an entire drawer for it.' Another wave of guilt surged through me. What a horrible person I was, lying to Meg, lying to Adrienne.

At that moment, Meg walked up to us, an envelope in her hand. For a second I feared for another note from the Opera Ghost, but then I saw the inscriptions on the front. Black ink, my name and address in a beautiful, elegant hand writing. A smile spread across my face.

'_Maman _asked me to give this to you. I don't know who… never mind that, judging from the look on your face I think you were already expecting it.' She quickly handed it over and I held it against my chest as I tried to calm my racing heart.

Though I was eager to open it, I decided to wait until after practice, as I wouldn't have much time now. Yes, I would wait and then before the Opera tonight, I would read it, if only to ease my nerves a little.

How strange it was, that because of the tumult I had been in since yesterday, I'd completely forgotten about the Opera tonight, Romeo and Juliet. It was indeed rather peculiar, I thought while taking a bite of my bread roll, especially considering the fact that I was always quite nervous due to the performance.

**pagebreak~**

That evening, I couldn't bring myself to eat anything at all, again. I had made it into quite a habit to eat little to nothing before performances, simply because I knew that if I would, I wouldn't be able to keep it down for long. By now, the other girls didn't even bother anymore to tell me I should at least try. They knew I was not going to and so they let it rest.

When we were all seated at a table and the others started eating, I pulled out my parents' letter from the pocket of my dress. Without a moment of hesitation, I opened the envelope. '_Dearest Angèlique,'_ it read.

'How wonderful to finally hear from you again. We've waited in great anticipation for your first letter to arrive and we are delighted to hear you are doing well and the Opera is to your liking. Your dad, sister and I do miss your presence in the house, though. It is so quiet and we miss the sight of you dancing across the room. We hope to be able to visit sometime soon, perhaps even come to one of the Operas if your father's work allows us to. Madeleine has made a drawing for you, which she asked me to send along, so I've sealed it in the envelope. Lots of love,

Your loving mother and father_'_

I couldn't help the smile that had spread from ear to ear as I read the letter over again. The text was so alike her, that I could almost hear my mother actually say the things out loud. Her sweet, soothing voice, always telling me that things were going to be alright and that I should not give up on my dreams. How I missed her. And dad too, of course. When I look back at it, I had had a fairly perfect family, with loving parents and a bond that many people would be jealous of.

'Angélique, are you almost finished?'

Disturbed, I looked up and nodded towards Anne. 'Yes, yes, almost done. Give me a second.' I quickly shoved the letter back in the envelope and pulled out another piece of paper – one I hadn't noticed when I first opened the envelope. Now, when I unfolded the second paper, I could easily imagine Madeleine trying her best to fold it neatly, the tip of her tongue resting on her bottom lip, eyes fixated and using all the concentration a nine year old could muster.

The smile on my lips widened even further, as far as that was even possible, when I saw the drawing she'd made for me. It was quite a simple one, as she possessed as much talent for drawing as I did, but it still made my eyes water. The figures on the paper represented three beautiful white swans, with their wings spread and their heads held high. In the middle of the three, a slender girl was dancing _en pointé, _her arms above her head, just like the wings of the swans around her. She, too, held her head high and her eyes were closed peacefully. Underneath the images, a single word was scrabbled in my darling little sister's handwriting. 'Angèlique', it said right at the bottom of the dancing girl. I now felt a tear make its way down my left cheek. I had told her about how much I'd dreamt of one day dancing the Swan Lake and it made me warm inside to know that she had actually remembered it.

Suddenly, I remembered where I was, with who and most importantly, what I was about to do. I quickly shoved the drawing back into the envelope and dropped it into one of the pockets of my dress. Quickly I rose from the bench and, surprising the other girls, I almost started running towards the backstage area of the auditorium. Where this sudden burst of energy had come from, I did not know exactly, but it was surely somehow linked to the news I got from my family.

'Angèlique, hold on! Wait, we're not _that_ late.' I heard Marie-Claire shout, but I hardly took the effort of slowing down even a single bit. In fact, it actually only made me want to run even harder, like in the games I used to play when I was a little girl. Émile would chase me around in the woods and I would run from him, giggling, screaming and laughing the way only a little child could do.

When we arrived backstage, everyone was already rushing around in turmoil from pillar to post. Ballerinas went through their steps one more time, stagehands discussed who would take which shift and position and tailors made final adjustments to whatever dress they could lay their hands on. It was quite hectic, but in the short time that I had been here, it had gotten quite familiar. Therefore, I didn't even bother asking if I could help anyone – I had learned it only made people more stressed if I did so at times like these – and walked towards the dressing rooms where the girls and I swiftly changed into our ballet uniforms. As usual, I felt the strange, wriggling feeling inside my stomach and I was glad I had not eaten that evening, for it would have surely come right out again. I took a deep breath, knowing it was almost time.

**pagebreak ~**

When the last note died out, I finally broke out of trance and took notice of the mass of faces in front of me. I didn't distinguish any, didn't even try, but just smiled a satisfied, but tired smile. As usual I hadn't felt the exhaustion up till the moment the Opera ended and everyone started clapping. Along with the others, I patiently waited until the lights would go out and the curtains close, as I kept my smile in place and my body motionless.

Finally, after what seemed ages, the lights dimmed and the curtains started moving. I relaxed my body and cracked my neck. As I rested my head in my neck for a moment, I noticed a white flash in the corner of my eye. An image flashed through my mind; the Phantom. However, when I looked again, the box was empty of all movement. Nobody. Must have been my imagination. I shook my head and tried to forget it, but the thoughts wouldn't be shaken off that easily.

'Oh Angélique, I was so horrible. In the third act, I completely lost it and it was so bad and I'm sure everyone has seen!' The little redhead dropped her gaze, ashamed.

I took her in my arms and squeezed a little. 'Dear, I am quite sure you were perfect. And even if you did make a mistake, probably no one even noticed.'

'Do you really think so?' She asked me, looking up with her big, brown eyes.

'I know so. Come on, let's go change.' I released her from my hug and started walking towards the dressing rooms.

As we approached, I could hear the excited voices of the ballet rats from three corridors away. Though it was very common for them to giggle, joke and talk in an extremely loud tone of voice – something that was frowned upon by basically all the other inhabitants of the _Opera_ _Populaire_ – I couldn't recall a time they'd ever been _this _loud. I made a mental note to ask what was going on immediately.

However, when we entered the dressing rooms, Marie-Claire ran up to us, a big smile plastered on her lips. Before I could even open my mouth, she practically screamed.. 'You two are going, aren't you?'

'Excuse me?'

'The party… tonight. Haven't you heard?'

'I'm afraid I haven't, no.' I scratched the back of my neck, trying to recall anything related to a party. I could not.

'Well, there will be a party later tonight. Nothing official, really, just something the stagehands have arranged. Anyway, you are going, right?'

'Ah… I don't..-' I started, but Adrienne interrupted me in mid-sentence.

'Of course we are!' She cried out in delight, in her childish happiness completely forgetting about the worries she'd had only mere seconds ago.

'Apparently we are,' I said, more to myself than to Marie-Claire, as I tried not to think of the fact that I'd never actually been to a party, formal or informal.


	12. Chapter 12

And here I was, standing in a large backstage area, surrounded by dozens of people I saw every day. Yet, however, when I looked around, I didn't seem to know any of them. The people around me were… well, real people. They socialized, talked, laughed, drank, some even kissed. I found it difficult to comprehend that these were the same people I practiced my routines with, ate my meals with and said '_bonjour_' to when I encountered them in the hallways.

To be honest, I felt quite out of place. I did not socialize, talk, laugh, drink or kiss. Frankly, I didn't even know how to do any of these things. Sure, I was able to have a polite conversation with my fellow ballerinas while stretching, or commenting on the weather when I met one of the stagehands. But these people were nothing like my colleagues at all. They talked about fun things, they laughed and shared personal stories about things I couldn't even dream of doing. Not that they didn't try to involve me in one of their conversations. No, Adrienne literally tried to drag me everywhere she went for the first hour or so. But when she'd finally noticed I felt just as happy standing alone, as when I was trying to take part in a conversation – or perhaps even more so – she'd given up and indulged to my numerous biddings to just leave me be.

She, however, had only been the first of many that would come and try to get me in some decent conversation, most of the time including a glass of alcohol that made me turn my face up.

Finally, after what seemed ages, but actually was only an hour or so, I saw my chance and slipped out of the room, when all the others were too busy watching a drunken stagehand tap dance on the top of a table. I quickly rid myself of the glass someone had given me by placing it behind some unfinished sceneries and rushed away before anyone would drag me back in there.

It took me a while to realise where my feet were taking me and as soon as that realisation set in, I stopped in mid-step. I doubted it would be wise to roam the corridors alone at night, especially with all those drunk men walking around.

I started to turn, but then something made stop again and stand frozen. What it was exactly, I did not know, but my heart was beating so rapidly and so loud, that I was quite sure the entire city of Paris could hear it. I listened closely, but aside from my own speeded heart rate and heavy breathing, not a sound was to be heard. The shadows around me were impenetrable, but also motionless and in that I found the courage to move again.

Quickly, swiftly, with steps that hardly made my feet touch the ground, I scurried through the labyrinth of hallways. Twice I hit a dead end, before I opened a door and came to a halt. How did I end up here, I wondered as I sucked in a large amount of air and leaned against the closed door.

When my eyes had finally adjusted to the darkness, I took in my surroundings a bit more closely. The small area I found myself in was decorated in an elegant, but simple manner. The curtains that partitioned it from the rest of the auditorium were made of a royal-looking, crimson red fabric and hung a small 10 feet long. In the middle of the area stood a single comfortable chair in the same crimson red as the curtains and at the left side of it, a small, ebony side table was placed.

I took a step forward, and another, until I stood against the wooden railing. Here it was, I remembered. This was the box where I had seen the white flash after the performance. Goose bumps rose on my skin and I felt a shivering go down my spine. I backed away from the railing, from the magnificent view the box had, and made for the door. Here, I froze again. It was open. If I hadn't been so high-strung, I probably wouldn't even have noticed, since it was only on a small crack. I turned around and scanned the box. No one. Calm down, Angèlique, I told myself and straightened my back. As I walked out of the room, I was sure to have heard a soft chuckle coming from the shadows.

**pagebreak ~**

That night, I awoke even before the sun began to rise. For the second time in twenty-four hours, my heart was beating abnormally fast and it took me a while to calm down again. It had seemed so real. Not at all like the strange, incoherent images your dreams mostly consist of.

In my dream, I had been back in the auditorium, in the box of earlier that night. On the stage, singers and dancers were in the middle of an to me unknown opera, but the auditorium was completely empty – beside myself. Yet, I heard the sound of the clapping and whispering of hundreds of people emerge from the empty seats below me. Suddenly all sound in the room fell silent and a young girl came to the centre of the stage. A long, white dress hung from her petite shoulders down to her delicate ankles. She was quite beautiful, with her lily skin and frail figure. Her dark brown curls were pulled back in an elegant braid and revealed a young, innocent face with gorgeous doe-like eyes. Then, all of a sudden, the music started again and she opened her mouth.

At that moment, everything changed rapidly. I was no longer in the box, looking down on the stage, I was now actually on the stage. In front of me lay the auditorium, along with its numerous chairs, each occupied by some sort of noble man or his wife. When I looked down for a second, I saw the same delicate arms and lily skin, partly covered by the white dress. Then, the music set in and I took a deep breath. To my surprise, I was not at all nervous. I knew what was coming and what I had to do. But then, the most angelic_, _most perfect voice filled my ears and I knew I could only surrender to it.

That was the moment I'd woken up and found myself safe in my bed again. With the voice still occupying my every thought with its sound, I tried to sort things out. With no use, of course. It was just a dream, I told myself, but I couldn't quite shake it off.

It was only now, that I realised where I had heard the melody before. It had been stuck in my head for weeks, but never did I realise that I'd never actually heard it before, I had dreamt it. And even more peculiarly, it had been the same dream over and over again, but I was never able to recall it when I'd woken up. Never had I heard this man sing, though. It was always the same dream, but it had always been just a fragment. Being in the box, on the stage, hearing the beginning of the song and then, I would wake up. I wondered why this time it had been different. Was there even a meaning to it? And whose was the angelical voice I'd heard?


	13. Chapter 13

That following morning, I could barely recall the dream I'd had. Most of it had vanished along with the dark shadows of the night and only a few glimpses I could actually remember clearly. However, one thing had not disappeared, or even faded a little. Even when I tried, I could not help but think of the mysterious voice from my dreams. It was so perfect, so powerful and so compelling, it was.. simply unlike anything I'd ever heard before. It was unearthly beautiful and even the Garnier Opera's finest singers, such as monsieur deLaque and even Clémence Dampierre herself, seemed unrefined and impure next to his.

'Angèlique? Angèlique, are you listening?'

'Hmmm sorry?'

Meg gave me a peculiar look, one she gave me quite often the last few days, actually. 'I asked if you'll go with us to the market this afternoon?'

'Oh.. I don't know, really..' To be honest, I could already feel my stomach turn at the thought of the traveling fair alone. 'I think I'll just stay here and practice the routine some more.'

'How are we supposed to find you a suitor if you stay in all the time?' Adrienne laughed, then gave me a meaningful look. 'Or have you already found one _inside _the Opera House?'

'Dear God, no,Adrienne,' I cried out laughing.

'Alright, well, don't blame us if you have no one to go with to the Masquerade.'

'Masquerade?'

'Don't worry,' Anne said, smiling comfortingly. 'There's still half a month left until it'll be held, so we've got seas of time left.'

I nodded and couldn't help but think about what Adrienne had said. A suitor.. What were the odds I would actually find someone? And why were my thoughts and hopes aimed towards the man from my dreams?

**pagebreak ~**

'Are you sure you're not coming along?' Adrienne asked me when we reached the front doors.

'I am, that routine doesn't practice itself, you know? Besides, seems like we'll get some nasty weather this afternoon, don't want to get all soaked.' I winked at the little girl and then watched as my friends walked out the doors.

Without much haste, I strolled back to the dormitories and sat down on my bed. Everyone was out, to town or paying visits to relatives. Wealthy, noble relatives mostly, who owned large estates and gigantic houses in the centre of Paris. How much they all differed from me. I sighed, as I knew that there would come a day that I would have to tell my friends about my life and how I was _not_ related to some royal or count. 'Ah well_.._' I rose again and searched my wardrobe for a comfortable dress and a pair of tights. I settled for a simple, white dress and quickly changed, after which I started my way towards the auditorium.

I shortly stretched in the backstage area and then walked up to the stage. As expected, the auditorium was completely empty of people and I closed my eyes contently. I took a deep breath and, with my arms raised in the air, started dancing. As I swirled, spun and leaped across the stage to imaginary music, I noticed with much discontent that right now dancing wasn't the anaesthetic I knew it to be. Not the anaesthetic I wanted it to be and very much needed it to be right now. It was as if my head wasn't connected to my body anymore and as my body danced across the stage, my mind still wandered.

I stopped in the middle of an _arabesque penchee_, and lowered my leg with a sigh.

Suddenly, as I aimed the gaze towards the sea of chairs, I forgot to breathe. I closed my eyes again and I could almost hear the hundreds of people in front of me, holding their breaths, waiting for the song to begin. It didn't take long, as I now heard the all too familiar melody start in my head, but this time it was different. Words formed in my mind and softly, carefully I began. 'You have come here… In pursuit of your deepest urge… In pursuit of that wish that 'till now has been silent… silent.' I swallowed. 'I have brought you…' As the song proceeded, I grew more and more confident and completely forgot about myself and my surroundings. The words came effortlessly, naturally, as if I'd never done anything else but singing them. Looking back, I can't even recall anymore the exact moment, but all of a sudden I was brutally interrupted and fell back into reality.

Meg stood in the middle of the sea of chairs, her face a ghastly pale white and a look of utter terror written all over it. For a moment, I thought she'd faint right then and there, but then she spun into action and ran up to me. 'Angèlique, where did you… how do you_.. _it doesn't even matter. We have to go. But first, promise me you'll never sing this again.'  
>I just stood there, probably looking like an completely imbecile, not understanding at all what she was making such a fuss about.<p>

'Angèlique,' she insisted 'promise me.'

'I don't understand.. why.. what?'

'I'll explain things later. For now, you _must _promise me you'll never sing this again, alright?'

I looked in Meg's pleading eyes. I had never seen her this upset, not even when I found her on the roof. 'I promise.'

She nodded, then started pulling me off of the stage, mumbling something along the lines of 'Now let us pray that he hasn't heard you.'

**pagebreak ~**

That evening at dinner, Meg still hadn't explained about what had happened in the auditorium. In fact, she hadn't said a single word to me at all. I wasn't quite sure why, but I was afraid I had deeply upset her.

Ever since that time I'd found her on the roof, she had had episodes of gazing off into the distance and not hearing a word of what we said. Now, as the other girls told about their afternoon in town, she was like this again. The only difference was that she'd been like this for the past five hours and it didn't seem like it would change in the next ten. I was quite sure the other girls noticed it too, but they never really showed it. Perhaps they knew more about it, than I did.

I waited until the others had finally finished their meals – I was too uncomfortable to eat myself – and then, when we walked towards the dormitories, pulled Meg with me into a corridor at the left. 'Meg.. I'm so sorry, I… I don't know what exactly is it that I did, but I'm terribly sorry I have angered you.'

'Angered? Angèlique, I'm not angry with you.'

'Then why do you act so strange. You haven't said a word to me since we left the auditorium.'

She looked at her feet and for a second or two I thought she'd break down. She didn't, but instead spoke in an almost inaudible tone 'I am frightened to death.'

'But why, Meg? I don't understand!'

'I can't… I _won't _tell you. Not again.' As she cried out those words desperately, the first tears started rolling down her cheeks. She whipped them off and, without another word, ran away.

For a moment I just stood there, staring at the place where Meg had just disappeared into the darkness. What had happened to the happy, cheery girl I'd met in the beginning? What was looming in that mind of hers?

_'_Don't worry, dear, it's not your fault.'

I turned around and saw Anne stare into the same direction I had been looking at. Adrienne, Marie-Claire and Veronique were nowhere to be seen, so I figured they must have walked on to the dormitories 'It's just… I don't understand what I did wrong. And it's not just today, she's been acting up ever since.. well I don't even know since when and I most certainly don't understand why.'

She sighed. 'It's not that I don't want to tell you, it's just that I can't. It's not my story to tell.'

Now it was my turn to sigh, as I did not understand things at all. So many questions were flying through my head and everyone seemed to know the answers, except for me.

'Anne, please, tell me at least something. I don't understand a single bit of what's going on, let alone what to think of it. You don't have to tell me everything, but I'd really like to know what is happening.'

'No, no I cannot, I'm sorry. If you really wish to know, ask Meg, but it would not be right for me to tell you.'

I sighed again, then nodded, as I knew there was no way Anne would tell me anything at all. Of course, in a way I understood why she wouldn't tell me, but another, less rational part of me wanted answers on my questions. Questions that seemed to become more alarming and more important for surviving at the Opera House.

As we walked on towards the dormitories, I replayed the day in my head. So much had happened, had changed in the time span of a single day. This morning, I'd had no idea that this day would bring so much commotion and drama. What had started as an ordinary day – that is if you don't count the strange dream I'd had – had soon developed itself into one of my most peculiar days in the Opera Populaire so far. And I was both curious and anxious about what tomorrow would bring.


	14. Chapter 14

'Come on, you _have _to come.' Adrienne almost begged me. Two weeks had passed in which I'd successfully kept off the jaunts to the shops, until today. Tonight was the night of the masquerade and, though I made futile attempts to stay behind once more, I knew I wouldn't find a way out this time. One way or another, today I would have to go and look for a dress, whether I liked it or not. And believe me, I didn't.

'I'm not feeling so well, Adrienne. I'd better just stay in, as I'll probably not even go to the party tonight.' I tried in one last, vain effort.

'But you have to go!' She cried out in a childishly. 'My brother will be there and I promised I would introduce you to him.'

'Hold on, no one ever told me something about meeting anyone.'

'Please? Oh please, Angèlique, please!'

'Fine, fine,I'll go.' I thought for a moment, then sighed. I'd better just tell them right away. 'Although.. I have to tell you something.'

The three of them looked at me, even Meg – who was almost all the time lost in thought – was gazing at me with that look of expectation.

I awkwardly shifted my own gaze towards the floor. 'I don't have money for a new dress.' It came out as a whisper, almost inaudible and for a moment I thought they hadn't heard me, as no one reacted.

Adrienne was the first one to move. 'That's it?'

'Dear,is that why you never joined us when we went to town?'

I nodded and looked up through my eye lashes to the girl's face, but Anne's face held nothing of the contempt or disgust I had expected. 'You're not even angry with me?' I asked in disbelief.

'Of course not, we…-'

'I will be though, if we'll not leave this minute. So much to do and so little time.' Adrienne said, adding the last in a wise, matter-of-fact tone of voice. It was so alien to hear those sensible words out her mouth that we all burst out in laughter and the tension disappeared.

When we ascended the front stairs, I felt at least ten pounds lighter. A heavy burden had been lifted off my shoulders and I was glad that my friends accepted me for the peasant's daughter I was.

We entered numerous chic, fancy and, above all, expensive shops with dresses, shoes, ribbons and jewellery in the following hours. Although every shop held at least ten magnificent dresses, Adrienne seemed determined to keep moving and piloted us from one shop to the next with a great fortitude. She didn't stop for anything, until finally, after what seemed eternities of waling but were actually only two hours, she came to a halt for a small, modest-looking shop at the edge of Paris' centre. If she hadn't stopped right in front of it, I would for sure have overlooked it, as it was nearly the exact opposite of the shops we had entered so far.

With a smile that stretched from one ear to another she looked at me. 'This is it!' She gestured us to follow her, as she strode with large, excited steps towards the door. Though feeling a bit reluctant, I went along. I didn't trust the smile of that little girl for a bit, who knew what she'd arranged for me this time. A secret meeting with some rich gentleman she had paired me off with perhaps? I could only hope it wouldn't be anything of the sort..

Inside the shop, however, I soon came to realize that my worries had been needless. It was fairly dark and the only light came from a chandelier in the back of the room. The furniture was antiquated and seemed to have been there for ages. No gentleman would want to meet in a place half as stale and dusty. For a second I thought that Adrienne had perhaps accidentally walked into the wrong shop, but that was when she called to me.

'Angèlique, stop daydreaming for a minute and come over here, will you?'

I nodded in reply and made my way through the 'shop'. To be honest, I felt quite uncomfortable, as there were three employees standing behind the pay desk, all of them watching our each and every move. Having customers must have been new for them.

When I stopped next to the redhead, she tapped me on the arm and nodded towards something.

Turning to the right, my mouth almost dropped in amazement and surprise. There, partly hidden in the dark shadows, stood a mannequin with what must have been the most beautiful dress I'd ever seen. How this gorgeous dress had ended up in such a decayed shop, I did not know, as it was obviously a gown made for royals an nobles, not for the ordinary people. It was made of what looked to be white satin and with golden thread, adornments were embroidered on the skirt and bodice. When I took a step closer I saw they represented small rose petals and leafs, and that the dress, indeed, was made of a refined satin fabric. 'It's wonderful!'

'Oh I knew you'd like it!' Adrienne squeaked in delight.

'Of course, it's beautiful. Now, try it on!'

She looked at me rather amused. 'It's for you, silly!'

'For me? But Adrienne, haven't you been listening to what I told you before? I can't afford this!'

'Just try it on. For me.' She looked at me with puppy eyes and I sighed.

'Very well.. but only to please you.' I gave her a last discontent look and waited for one of the employees to come with me to the fitting room. There I swiftly took off my own dress – an awfully simple, green one – and let the older woman help me into the gown. As she tied the corset, I held my breath. I was lucky to be naturally thin, as it made me able to escape the torture of corsets most of the time.

'It's done._' _ The woman simply proclaimed and opened the curtain that served as door.

I nodded and fidgeted with the skirt, before I walked out.

A moment of complete silence followed, and I was about to get back to the fitting room when suddenly Adrienne broke out in a set of cheerful giggles. 'I was right, you look absolutely superb!'

'Indeed, you could easily pass for a queen or empress,' Anne agreed.

I blushed and turned towards the mirror. For a few seconds, I merely gaped at my reflection. Was that really me? I had to admit, the girls were right. In all honestly, I'd never looked this pretty in my entire life. If I wouldn't have known I was gazing at a mirror, I could have easily believed this girl – this _woman –_ was of royal blood. The fabric of the dress enwrapped my body perfectly and it seemed like it was designed solely for me. The skirt made the satin look more like a flowing river and I could not help but fall in love with it.

'I think we have made our choice,' I heard Adrienne say to the older woman.

That was when I snapped back to reality and closed my eyes at the soreness of it. There was no way I could ever afford a dress like this. I sighed, as I knew this would be the first and last time I would ever wear it. 'Adrienne… would you please come over here for a second?'

'What is it, is something wrong with the dress?'

I fidgeted again with the skirt. 'No.. well, yes.. I.. could you please just come here?'

She gave me another questioning look, but then walked up to me. 'What's wrong?'

Leaning into her, I hoped to keep the shop assistants from overhearing my words. 'I can't buy this, Adrienne, I don't have enough money to buy something like this.'

'Is that all?'

I frowned not-understandingly, then nodded.

'Back to the fitting room, then! We still got to look for some masks as well.'

Wasn't this girl listening at all? I wondered, as I reluctantly went to change out of the beautiful dress again. Without help from the older woman – I had no clue as to where she'd gone all of the sudden – I stripped off the fine layers of satin and changed back into my own dull, green dress. I draped the satin dress carefully over my arm and, after a last, rueful sigh, walked out towards the others. With a sad face I handed the dress to one of the other employees, as the older woman was still nowhere to be seen. I gazed at the floor, while trying to hide the disappointment I felt inside, and waited for Adrienne to lead us to the next shop.

'Would you like a box for it?'

At this remark my head snapped up towards the young boy I'd given my dress to. He was now behind the pay desk and was gazing at Adrienne with a look of expectation.

'Yes please.'

I rushed towards her and looked at her in disbelief. What in the devil's name was she doing? 'Adrienne,' I said in a low voice 'I told you, I cannot afford this.'

'I know,' she replied, then a broad smile formed on her lips. 'But I can.'

My eyes widened. 'Adrienne, no! I won't let you pay my dress. It would be unacceptable.'

'Don't fuss about it, alright? If it makes you feel any better, I have my own benefits in having you look the very best you can.'

I cocked an eyebrow at her words, but before I could ask her anything, the boy called her and she strode towards him with large, elegant steps. I was now sure; she was completely crack-brained. Though I did not know the exact price, I was quite sure the gown must have cost a fortune.

'Alright, let's go!' She exclaimed, as she walked pass me, a bag with the box in it in her left hand. Both her voice and her face were filled with the joy only she could experience from buying a dress for someone else. If it weren't for the fact that it made me uncomfortable to live off of someone else's expenses, I would have found it delightful to watch her.

'Try not to think about it, dear_.'_ Anne said and laid her hand comfortingly on my shoulder.'If Adrienne gets something in her mind, there's nothing you can do to change her thoughts. She's as stubborn as a donkey.'

'And I'm proud to be so,' Adrienne called back and giggled. She truly was one of the craziest, most free-spirited, sweetest girls I'd ever met.


	15. Chapter 15

That evening, when I looked in the mirror, I could barely recognize myself – even less than I had been able to that afternoon. After we'd left the clothing store, we had walked into several boutiques and lastly, when it was almost time to go back to the opera house, we saw it. It was in one of those cute, tiny shops, with pastel wallpaper and a small chandelier with diamonds. In the glass cases, that were stuffed with hundreds of all kinds of masks, one in particular caught our eye. Actually, it looked quite simple. Where others had been adorned with large feathers, pearls, diamonds and bright colours, this one almost looked boring. However, I think it was this simplicity that made me like it so much. Just like the dress, the mask was made of a white fabric, and was at some places covered with pieces of lace. Underneath the left eye were three, small gleaming stones, that caught the light of chandelier and sparkled. Apparently, I was not the only one who had immediately fallen in love with it, as Adrienne squeaked out in delight and asked the shop keeper right away to get the mask for her. The man had simply nodded and heaved it out of the show case as if it were made of porcelain. Adrienne, much to my dislike, paid for the mask, got it wrapped and soon we had been on our way back to the Opera Garnier.

And now, here I was, looking at a woman that I could barely recognize anymore. Dressed in a beautiful evening gown, with my hair pinned up high on my head and garnished with several small gems and a delicate mask placed over the upper side of my face, I looked not a bit like my normal self. Adrienne had even managed to get some of the stage make up, with which she had powdered my face lightly and had accentuated my dark grey eyes.

'I am so excited!' The young redhead cried out, who made quite the picture herself as well. Dressed in a tight-fitting, dark green dress, that emphasized her small waist and slim figure as well as the fairness of her lily skin, she was quite a looker. As were Anne and Meg, though the latter still was absent minded and sequestered. 'Shall we go?'

We made our way through the corridors as quick as we could. The others looked graceful and ladylike on their heels, I however, did not so much. As a daughter of a simple tailor, I had never gone to any parties or gatherings before I'd come to the Opera. And in my daily life heels weren't exactly practical, so the only experience I'd had with them was when I saw them on my father's customers' feet. Therefore, I wasn't at all used to the discomfort my feet were now in.

When we at last arrived in the lobby, it was already littered with people and I hadn't sprained my ankle, yet. Everywhere around me were beautiful looking people, with dresses and suits in all colours, shapes and models. Close to us, I spotted a group of ballerinas – who I identified by their horrific laughter – dressed up in white dresses and masks with white feathers, obviously posing as a group of swans.

'Well, some of us sure took the 'fancy dress party' serious,' Anne whispered in my ear and I chuckled softly, which I tried to smother very ladylike by holding a gloved hand against my lips.

'Ah there you are!' Adrienne exclaimed and rushed through the crowd of people. We quickly tread on her heels, as it was quite easy to lose one another in a room like this.

She ran up to someone and threw her arms around him, in a way that only Adrienne could do; without a care in the world about what others would think. When she finally let go of her victim, she turned around and gestured for us to come a bit closer.

'Angèlique, I'd like to introduce you to my dear brother, Christophe Rousseau. Brother, this is Angèlique Fournier.'

I made a curtsy and smiled politely. 'It is a pleasure meeting you, _monsieur_.'

'Oh, please, call me Christophe. _Monsieur_ makes me feel so old. Besides, Adrienne has written so much about you that I feel like I've known you for ages. Of course all good things,' he added with a wink. Then he laughed joyfully and in that moment the similarities between brother and sister were unmistakeable. Though his hair was darker, more brownish with a soft red glow over it, his face had the same round, childish form and eradiated a similar unconditional kindness and fairness as that of his sister. And his laughter was so contagious that it made you want to laugh along, even if you didn't know what the joke was. Yes, Christophe Rousseau was a very likeable man, though not per se in looks, but more in a certain appeal he possessed.

'How is the Manor of Roses fairing? All is still well, I trust?' Anne inquired.

'Oh yes, yes all is well. However, I am afraid Isabelle is a bit lonely since you left. You should all come visit the estate again soon. I am sure that would cheer her up.'

'Isabelle is his dog,' Adrienne whispered in my ear, at seeing my confused look. 'Last Christmas we were invited at his estate to spend our holiday.'

'And hereby you are all invited to join me this year as well,' he smiled, clearly having overheard his sister's whispering. Yes, Christophe Rousseau sure was a likeable man.

**pagebreak ~**

As the evening dragged on, I found it becoming more and more like my first party at the Opera house. I was never really alone, but I was never part of group conversations either and though this was partly my own choice, I couldn't help but wish the masquerade would come to an end soon. Christophe Rousseau, with whom I was talking at the moment, was not an unpleasant conversation partner and I could quite easily talk to him about almost everything, but I found myself unable to be at ease in a room so crowded and noisy.

'I am going to take a walk for a bit,' I told him 'This room is a bit too crammed for my taste.'

He nodded 'Let me walk with you, I'm in need of some exercise myself as well.'

We strolled through the corridors in a comfortable silence, neither feeling the need to break it. I looked down at my feet, thinking about how miraculous it was that they weren't aching yet from the shoes.

'Ah there we are,' he said and sighed in delight.

Looking up, I found out in surprise that we were in the auditorium, in one of the boxes in fact. A strange fear crept into the back of my mind, but before I'd act upon it, I noticed that it was not box five. I sighed in relief. 'Do you come here often? Seeing you found your way through the corridors so easily.'

'Not anymore, no. My parents used to take Adrienne and me here every month or so, but I'm too busy with work and traveling these days to keep up that tradition.'

I nodded understandingly and gazed over the railing of the box. How spectacular an Opera must look if you were to see it from one of the boxes.

'I pity it though, as I would very much wish to be able to see Adrienne dance at least once. That's the least I could do, right?'

I glanced to the left, to see him stare off in the distance, completely succumbed by thoughts. 'I don't think she blames you, _monsieur_. She seems very fond of you.'

'As am I of her,' he replied softly. 'Anyway, why were you not dancing, _mademoiselle_ Angèlique?'

'Oh.. I.. well..' I gazed down again, feeling my head grow red. I knew this moment would come. I fumbled with my fingers and finally sighed. 'I don't know how.' Embarrassed I looked up through my eye lashes.

He seemed a bit taken back by my answer, but then looked at me with a smile. 'Well, why haven't you said so? I could teach you if you like.'

'You could?'

'Of course! Since you are a dancer, and an exceptionally good one if I am to believe my little sister, I'm sure you'll get the hang of it in no time. Come, there is no place better to learn to dance than on the stage.' The smile on his face widened and I recognized the same mischievous twinkle in his eyes as the one I often saw in Adrienne's.

Once on the stage, he took my hand gently and smiled once more. 'Now, let us start with a Waltz. It's not that difficult, just follow my lead.'

For the next minutes – or hours, I must admit that I lost all track of time – we stepped, turned and spun across the stage in silence. _Monsieur_ Rousseau proved himself a skilful and elegant dancer, but never acted like the smug, disdaining prick he had all right to be.

'I think it's about time to call our lesson to a quit, now. My little sister will undoubtedly be looking for both you and me, and I don't want to give her the wrong ideas.'

I nodded, disappearing with a man was not good for one's reputation and knowing Adrienne even a little, I knew I'd never hear the end of it if this would=d reach her ears. No doubt she would try to pair us off. 'Yes, I think you're right. Thank you for the lessons, _monsieur_, I must admit that I had a wonderful time.'

'As did I, _mademoiselle_.' He winked and offered me his arm, which I dismissed with a gesture of my hand.

'You go ahead, monsieur, I'll be there in a few. Let me just catch my breath and regain my posture. Like you said, I don't want to give anyone the wrong ideas.'

'Are you sure?'

'Why, yes, _monsieur_. I know my way around this place blind-folded, so do not worry about me.' I gave him an assuring smile and curtsied.

'Very well then,' he indulged and turned on his heel. 'Until later, then_, mademoiselle _Angèlique.'

I watched him disappear into the dark of the backstage area and then lowered myself on the edge of the stage, looking down in the orchestra pit. _Monsieur_ Rousseau was a fine man, indeed. Amusing, kind and with an open mind for all things around him. Adrienne was lucky to have a brother like him.

Sudden noises pulled me out of my thoughts and I looked up. No, not noises, I thought, voices.

'…and they think he died along, but let me tell ya one thing, that lad ain't dead, that's for sure.' One of them spoke thickly and laughed.

I cringed, hoping they would walk on without noticing me. It was vain hope of course, because soon the man continued in his alcohol tainted voice.

'Well look what we have here, what a pretty young thing you are.'

'The party's in the lobby, love.'

'Oh but we can make a party here as well, can't we,' the first answered and tried to lay his hand on my shoulder.

I pulled away before his skin could touch mine and turned to face them with all the courage I could manage – which, I must confess, was not very much. Judging from the look on their faces, they were all dead drunk and had trouble with even standing on their feet. Though I didn't recognize any of them, I thought them to be workers at the Opera, as their clothes were too filthy and old to be worn to a party.

'Well well, now things are truly starting to get interesting. How scandalous of me not to have recognized you immediately, _madame_.' He turned to the others. 'Our beloved Christine Daaé has returned. And I'm sure we're not the only ones who are glad with your return. But then again, I think she knows that already, why else would she be sitting here, all alone, than to wait for her secret lover, the Opera Ghost?'

'I must go,' I said, sounding more frightened than I had hoped. I quickly scrambled to my feet and gathered my dresses, but a hand on my arm stopped me.

'Why such a hurry, love, I'm sure your lover will show up. Perhaps singing him a little song will help.'

My body had grown cold and seemed to have turned into stone. I tried to move, but it seemed as if all control I'd had over my body was gone. Even my voice seemed to have gone missing and all I could do was stand and listen. One thought kept repeating itself in my head. Why didn't I just went along with _monsieur_ Rousseau?

'Gentlemen,' a loud voice suddenly boomed through the large hall of the auditorium. 'If your life is dear to you, I suggest you will all retreat to your homes now and will tomorrow immediately resign from your jobs.'

'And what if we don't?' One of the men dared to ask, in an attempt to sound brave.

'Then I will end both for you, myself.'

The men, though a little taken back by the threats, didn't do anything, much less go away.

'I ain't afraid of a ghost,' another scoffed.

'Then you'll die by the hand of one,' the voice answered low and before I could even question the meaning behind his words, a noose tightened on the man's neck and he was hoisted in the air by an unseen force. There he hung, between the lights and sceneries, struggling and gasping for air until, at last, his body grew limp and all was quiet for a moment.

I collapsed on the floor, feeling myself float on the very border of consciousness. My vision blurred and the last thing I saw was the face of a man. A man in a mask.


	16. Chapter 16

When I woke up again – or rather; regained consciousness – I was completely clueless of what had happened for a moment. My head throbbed a little, my body felt unpleasant and I had no idea of where I was, but at least I was still alive. I wasn't even sure anymore why that was such a comfort, but somehow it did ease my anxiety and after a minute or two I finally opened my eyes.

Though my vision was tilted, it took me less than a second to realise I was in the auditorium, on the very edge of the stage in fact. Memories came rushing back and I sat up as my brains processed this new information. Surprise took a hold on me as the realisation dawned that it had been the Phantom. The Phantom of the Opera had saved me. But why? I wondered. I brushed a lock brown hair out of my face and tucked it behind my ear. At touching my face, I noticed the mask was gone and upon looking around me, I found it tossed aside, lying a few feet away from me. Images came flashing back. They'd called me Daaé, Christine Daaé. Yes, I now remembered clearly. But what was so special about that name again? I pinched the bridge of my nose out of frustration, as there was a part of me that simply knew those details were important. Another memory arose in the back of my mind, this one from a longer time ago. "_'__But then, one day he fell in love with one of the girls here. Maybe you've heard of her. Christine Daaé.'_" That was it, it had to be. Well, fortunately for me I wasn't and apparently he had noticed in time, otherwise I might not have woken up on the stage, but in his secret hiding place, perhaps the same where he had once taken the real _mademoiselle_ Daaé. I gently placed the mask back on my face and suddenly another realisation dawned on me. The masquerade. For how long had I been unconscious? I quickly got back on my feet and started running – as far as that was possible with the heels – towards the lobby. I prayed for the party not to have come to an end yet and when I reached the doors I finally came to an halt. I swiftly recomposed myself and, after a deep breathe, opened the door.

I let out a sigh. I should have known; on the way out, the music that came from the small orchestra had been audible throughout the entire opera house. On the road back, it had been eerily quiet in the hallways, but I had been too caught up in my own thoughts to really notice it.

'Excuse me,' I approached one of the musicians who was just securing his copper saxophone into a case. 'What time is it?'

He looked up from his cherished music instrument. 'Half past midnight, _mademoiselle_. The party's been over for half an hour.'

I nodded and thanked him, before I turned around and headed for the door. It was best to go back to the dormitories, to find the others and tell them I was alright. Adrienne would have probably gone mad by now.

'Angèlique?'

I turned around and was surprised to find Anne standing there, a smile of relief spread across her face.

'Oh thank God,' I whispered and continued 'I went to the lobby, but they told me the party was over..'

'We've waited for you for a few more minutes, but then _madame_ Giry sent us to the dormitories. What happened?'

I gazed at my feet, trying to come up with a believable lie. 'I.. don't know.' I said, which was not completely a lie. 'I fell and knocked my head. I don't know how long I've been unconscious, but when I woke up, I almost immediately went to the lobby.'

She nodded, though I was sure she'd noticed the gaps in my story. 'Come, let's go back to the dormitories, I'm sure the others will be as relieved as I was to see you are alright.' We made our way to the dormitories in silence, which only gave me more time to drown in my guilt. I hated lying and yet lately I seemed to be doing so more and more.

In the dormitories, we were met by an overly concerned Adrienne and a timid Meg, though I could even see a bit of concern in her eyes. Of course, Adrienne wanted to know what happened and so I repeated my lie. She, however, didn't seem to notice how fake it was and just lectured me about not having said goodbye to her brother. It was only now that I remembered Christophe Rousseau. How stupid of me to have completely forgotten about him in all the hassle. My head started aching of all the things that had happened and it suddenly occurred to me just how tired I really was. I curtly told the others I was going to sleep and made my way to my bed. As fast as I could, I washed the makeup off, brushed my hair and changed into my night gown. In the meanwhile, the others had retreated to their beds as well and I curled myself up beneath my blankets. When I closed my eyes, today's happenings replayed in my mind and I would have been asleep immediately, if it wasn't for a certain image that kept haunting me.

It had been on one of the last microseconds of consciousness. A man bent over me, his eyes burning with a deep, intense happiness. His fingers lightly touched my face as he removed the mask. His face fell. His eyes went cold. All went black.

**pagebreak ~**

I woke to the gossiping of some of the ballerinas. With great effort, I opened my eyes and let out a sigh of exhaustion. My night had been plagued by memories and even when I'd finally fallen asleep, I did not find rest. Nightmarish creatures, horrifying images and grisly sounds had filled my dreams, as they had done many years ago. It was not the same, though, as the nightmares I used to have as a small child.

The setting had changed, characters had been added and I had found myself on the stage once more, haunted by shadows and whispers. Music had started and ghosts of dancers had appeared. As they danced, some passed right through me, but it only gave me a cold, empty feeling in the pit of my stomach. Suddenly, I'd felt a hand on my shoulder a turned swiftly. Two, cold, emotionless eyes stared at me from behind a black mask. That was when I'd woken up.

I brushed some strands of hair from my face and tried to calm my breath. Today's Sunday, I tried to distract myself, so I have the whole day to myself. Perhaps I can go to the library, read something and perhaps write a letter back to _maman_ and_ papa_. Yes, that's what I would do. Now, first put on a dress and go down for some breakfast. I rose from my bed, and quickly picked a simple dress from my closet. After I'd changed, tied my hair and washed my face, I headed for the dining room.

As I walked into the dining hall, I found it to be quite empty. Perhaps it was later than I thought, I mused. Looking around, I didn't see Adrienne, Anne or Meg and so I decided to grab myself a slice of bread with cheese to take with me to the library.

The Opera Populaire's library was definitely undervalued. Not that much was to be expected in an opera house, but it had always been completely empty whenever I came there. I, however, found it to be a quite restful place and tried to come there at least once a week.

After I'd found myself a table to sit on, I spread out a piece of paper and dipped my quill in the ink. 'Dear _maman_ and_ papa,' _I began once more in the most elegant handwriting I could muster. I stared at the paper for a moment or two. What was I going to write? I didn't feel well at all and I had nothing to tell them that would not upset them or make them worried. I laid down my quill and stared off in the distance. Yes, lately my life had been rather strange. I didn't even know what to make of it myself, with all the mystery. Suddenly, an idea popped up and I pulled out another piece of paper. I dipped my quill in the ink bottle again and started writing. 'Dear Phantom,

after what you did for me last night, I feel it is only fair that I will at least express my gratitude towards you. I do not know what turn events would have taken if you had not interfered and therefore I am deeply thankful.

Angèlique Fournier'

I reread the letter and, being satisfied, folded it into an envelope. A second, I doubted whether or not to write his 'name' on the front, but I decided against it. If anyone else would find it, I wouldn't want them to gain suspicions. Alright, now the next question was; how would I deliver it to him? I mean, I could not drop it onto his bed like he had done with his letter to me. I didn't even know where he took residence.

The box. Yes, that is what I would do. I'd leave it in the box I'd seen him in that day at the performance. Wasn't that what one of the ballerinas had once been talking about? Something about his private box. I quickly gathered my things, blew out my candle and made my way to box five.

As was to be expected, I found the box – and the rest of the auditorium as well – completely empty of people. I waited until my eyes were adjusted to the darkness and then looked for a good spot to place my letter. At first, I wanted to drop it on the wooden side table, but I refrained from that idea, as I did not want anyone who'd peak inside the box find it. Perhaps on the chair itself, on the seat.

Carefully, I placed my envelop in the middle of the seat and then, contently, made for the door. However, before I could touch the heck, a voice startled me and almost made me lose my balance.

'_Mademoiselle_ Fournier.. _Madame_ Giry's promising talent and prima ballerina. Well, for a dancer you sure have a bad equilibration. And you're skinny, too skinny to ever carry out some of the dance steps required from what is to be expected of a prima ballerina.' He said in a criticizing sort of manner. 'Tell me, how old are you?'

'Seventeen, _monsieur_.' I answered quietly, my voice shaking with humiliation and fear.

'At your age, young _mademoiselle_ Giry was already able to carry out the most complex dance routines perfectly. If you ever wish to achieve such a thing, you must train and train, instead of roaming corridors, sneaking into dressing rooms and singing songs that are not meant for shallow voices like yours. _Madame_ Giry thinks you have potential, but all I see is another foolish young girl. Go.'

'Yes,_ monsieur_.' I bowed my head and, quivering, made my way out of the box. What was worse, I did not know. The defamation itself, or the hateful manner in which he'd spat out the words as if I wasn't even worth the effort of saying them.

For a moment, I let myself rest against the wall as I tried to recollect myself. I bit my lip, trying as hard as I could to fight the tears back and taking deep breathes. After a few more moments of just standing there, I pushed myself up and quickly made my way towards the dormitories.

When I finally came in the hallway that the dormitories were in, a hand grabbed my arm and pulled me into the shadows. 'Shhhhh, it's just me,' Anne's voice said, as she noticed how I had frozen in fear. 'I've been looking all over for you. A man has been found on the stage. Angèlique, he was dead. Hanged.' She paused for a moment. 'Where were you last night?'

**~**

**I am sorry for everyone that expected this to become sappy and expected the Phantom to become some sort of hero. He is not. That's what I tried to clear up with this chapter. He wouldn't have saved her - hell, he wouldn't have _cared_ - if the men had not called her Christine and if she had not looked like Christine on first glance that night. I do feel sorry for my OC for being flamed like that, haha. Also, before any of you start thinking Angèlique is some sort of Christine look-a-like, she's not. But do keep on reading to find out what exactly is going on!**


	17. Chapter 17

For what seemed like an eternity, I just stood there. I had known that at a certain moment, the girls would want answers, real ones. But I hadn't expected them to ask me so straightforward. I took a deep breathe, safely aiming my gaze towards my feet, and cleared my throat. I couldn't lie to her anymore. Though at one hand, I knew the truth would do no good in this case, another part of me knew as well that I just couldn't lie to her anymore. I wouldn't. 'It's… a long story. Please, follow me and I will explain it to you in a minute.'

Anne threw me an uncomprehending glance, but apparently accepted my terms, as she simply nodded and followed me as I started walking. She remained quiet for the entire journey through the Opera House and didn't even question me when I inspected the dance room carefully before I shut the door behind us.

A few moments passed as we simply stood there and I took a deep breathe once more. 'You see, it's kind of difficult to explain and it will probably sound as utter nonsense to you. And yet, I ask you to simply listen to me and perhaps, if you could, try to find the faith to believe me.'

'Angèlique, you don't have to tell me things if they are too personal or painful to talk about. I just need to know where you were last night.'

I shook my head. 'That's the problem. Last night.. was part of a bigger story, one I've been keeping a secret for too long.'

'Alright well, whenever you're ready, then.'

'Let us sit down first. Like I said, it's a long story and I don't know how long it will take me to tell you everything.' I gestured to the floor and seated myself in the middle of the wooden floor. After I'd crossed my legs and saw the other girl had seated herself as well, I began with my tale. Surprisingly, it took me hardly any effort to recollect the events concerning the Opera Ghost. It was as if my brain had taken care to preserve these memories as best as possible, so that I could reconstruct it all perfectly. And I did. I told her about everything I could think of, concerning the Phantom. I told her about the conversation between _madame_ Giry and the managers I'd overheard, about my first encounter with the Ghost in _mademoiselle_ Dampierre's dressing room. I told her about the letter he wrote me and how I found out it was he who had scared the leading soprano that night. I told her about the night of the masquerade, and how it had almost ended in a disaster, if it were not for the Phantom, who had practically saved my life – even if it were by mistake. And lastly, I told her about my latest, and definitely most abasing encounter with him. When I'd finally muttered the last word, I broke apart and the first tears started flowing from my eyes. Though I'd tried so hard to ignore his painful words, his mortifying remarks, I could not. No longer I could pretend that his words did not affect me, because in all honesty, they did. I did care. I had been trying so hard to please everyone, to do my very best, only to be brought down by one of the greatest musical geniuses in the world. How could I possibly not care?

'I'm so _so_ sorry, Angèlique.' Anne uttered eventually, after what had seemed like another century of silence. 'I knew something was going on, but I never..' She shook her head. 'Why didn't you tell us? Tell me?'

I gazed at my feet as I sniffed and tried to get myself together. Without any use, of course. 'I-I don't know,' I whispered, my voice sounding as broken as I felt. 'I was afraid, I think.'

'Of what, dear?'

'Of losing you, I think.'

'Oh silly girl, we wouldn't abandon you for telling us things like this, no matter how strange or unbelievable.'

I shook my head. 'No, I was afraid he'd hurt you. In the letter I got.. he advised me not to tell anyone and I just.. I was afraid he'd…' I tore down again and started sobbing uncontrollably. The idea of my friends being punished because of me, because of a mistake I made, it was unbearable.

'Hey, hey, dear, calm down. We are safe, alright? He will not harm you, or any of us, if we won't let him. And whatever he has said to you, it is not true. If he calls you a foolish young girl, then perhaps it is he who is being foolish, because in that case, he clearly misses what's really there. I do see it and so does _madame_ Giry, and that's the most important thing.' She whipped the tears from my face and smiled, something I tried to return. 'There now, much better already. Now keep your head high and whatever it is that man does, remember to always believe in your own strength. Now, let us go down to the dining hall, as I'm sure the others will already be there.'

I nodded and smiled, my heart feeling lighter than it had been feeling for a long time. Telling Anne about my secrets had not made my problems disappear, but it sure felt good to know that from now on, I wouldn't have to face them on my own. And with that feeling, I got back on my feet and made my way downstairs.

**pagebreak ~__**

After dinner, I let myself be practically dragged to the library by Adrienne. According to her, it was scandalous that I'd never read Alice in wonderland ("Honestly Angèlique, you could have spent your time more wisely than running around in the backyard and climbing trees..") and she was determined to have me make up for that shortage.

In all honesty, I didn't really mind going to the library. Like I mentioned earlier, it was one of the most undervalued places in the entire Opera and therefore one of the quietest as well. I doubted any of the ballet rats had ever set foot into this dusty, dark wooden compartment of their beloved home – that is; apart from myself and now Adrienne, of course. 'Alright, now I'm going to ask the librarian where I can find the book and in the meanwhile, you'll stay right here and try not to break anything.' As she set off, I couldn't help but chuckle because of her words. Of all people in the Opera House, she was definitely one of the most hypocrite ones.

I let out a sigh and ran my finger along the countless books on the shelves. As I deciphered titles from the backs, I found I recognized only few, and had actually read even less. Perhaps Adrienne hadn't been so wrong about me having a lack of cultural development.. Suddenly my finger touched the back of a familiar name and I smiled as I took it from the shelve. 'Alice in Wonderland'. Judging from the outside of the book, I couldn't find anything special about it. Just another small, black, leather bound book, with the title in curly writing on the front. I flipped through the pages absent-mindedly, until a drawing caught my eye and I stopped. Though at first seeming quite average, I soon found that the drawing itself held more to it than it seemed to do on first glance and, intrigued, I flipped further.

'Ah, I see you found it yourself, already.' Adrienne's voice sounded all of the sudden and I started. 'So, how do you like it?'

'I.. I'm not sure,' I said, truthfully. 'It's different, but I'm not sure yet as to why.'

Adrienne nodded in understanding. 'Yes, it really is quite different. But it's definitely worth reading. And when you're finished, you should read the sequel as well.'

I laughed. 'All in good time. Let me first get through this one, before we even speak of matters such as sequels.'

'Very well, I suppose you're right anyway, as usual.. Now, let's return to the dormitories, so you'll still have time to read something before it's time to go to bed.'

As we passed by cases and cases crammed with books, something in the corner of my eye caught my attention and made me stop. While taking a step closer, I placed the book in my hands on a side table. Leaning in, I could now read a couple of words that were written just underneath the picture. "Cast of Hannibal, 1870". After scanning the picture for mere seconds, I'd already found a couple of familiar faces. Anne, Marie-Claire and a young Adrienne all smiled back at me from the photograph and I was about to call Adrienne to come when I noticed something else.

'What's wrong, Angèlique?' Adrienne inquired, as she noticed how my body had become frozen.

'Who is that?' I asked with a quivering voice, though I already knew the answer. There, right beside a innocent, careless-looking Meg stood a tall, slender girl. She had a lily-white skin, brown hair and the most childish eyes I'd ever seen in a girl her age. Meg and the girl had their arms tossed around each other and in the look they shared, it was obvious that the two of them were best friends.

'Christine Daaé.'

Though I had already known, Adrienne's confirmation still hurt and it took me all my strength not to collapse on the floor. The realisation was painful. This was the girl from my dreams. It was her that was the main character in my dreams. She was the singer. And most importantly, it was her whose song I'd sung. 'Oh God,' I whispered, as it dawned on me just how much pain I must have caused Meg.

'Are you alright?' The little redhead asked, worried.

I nodded, though everything inside of me screamed the opposite. Things started to fall into place and, more than I liked to admit, I realised I had been wrong all along. I had never made a connection between Meg and the Opera Ghost, simply because I didn't see any reason to do so. But, thinking about it, I couldn't have been more wrong. He had taken away her best friend. 'Adrienne.. there is something I need to do before going to bed. You wouldn't by any chance know where Meg could be, would you?'

She thought for a moment, then shook her head. 'I'm afraid not. She has a way of disappearing into thin air sometimes.. Much like yourself.'

Ignoring her last comment, I simply answered with an " alright" and, after a quick apologize, took off. As I roamed the corridors, I thought over places she could be. Meg was never one to go to the dormitories before bedtime, so there was little chance I'd find her there now.

Without being actually aware of it, my feet had taken me to the door that would lead me to the roof. It was actually a good shot, as I had already found her there once before. 'Might as well check,' I murmured as I grabbed the heck. It was stuck. Thrusting my entire body against the door, I tried to turn the heck again, but again without any results. Suddenly, I heard a soft pound. I turned around, but found no one who could have caused it. Then, I noticed something small lying at my feet. I cocked an eyebrow; it was a key. I looked around, but again found no one. Sighing, I picked up the key and pushed it in the lock. Though rusty as it had looked, it flipped it easily and opened the door without any effort. I shook my head and tried not to think about the oddness of what had just happened.

It was there that I found Meg, on the same spot as the last time. Her feet were dangling over the ledge and she seemed to be lost in thought. She had her arms wrapped around her against the cold and I don't think she would have noticed me, even if I would have called her name out loud. Therefore, I swiftly made my way towards the ledge and stopped a few feet away from her. 'Meg.. I.. I'm sorry.'


	18. Chapter 18

Meg started at the sound of my voice and swirled around rapidly. 'Oh dear God, it's just you. You frightened me.'

'Forgive me, that was not my intention.. I just came here to tell you that I… I'm sorry. I learned some things today about Christine Daaé and well… it all makes sense now. And I feel terrible for hurting you.' I bit my upper lip and waited impatiently for her response.

When Meg looked up at my face again I saw that, much to my surprise, she was crying. 'I wanted to tell you, Angèlique. I really did,' she sobbed and hid her face in her hands. 'I just couldn't talk about it, not after hearing you sing and.. and seeing you at the masquerade. I'm such an awful friend. I'm so sorry.. Can you forgive me?'

'Forgive _you_?' I asked, startled. 'My dear friend, there is nothing to forgive you for.' I stepped closer to her and took the sobbing girl in my arms. I wasn't really good with these sort of things, but I remembered how Anne had once stroked my back and I tried to copy her actions, in hope that it would somehow calm Meg a bit.

She shook her head. 'No, I should have told you. You deserve the truth.' The blonde girl took a deep breath a for a few seconds it was eerily quiet on the roof. 'When Christine came to the Opera House at seven, my mother took her under her care and raised her as her own, as Christine had no one else in the world anymore.' Meg's voice broke and she closed her eyes, while the tears kept falling relentlessly.

'You don't have to…' I began, but she cut me off.

'I do.' She took another deep breath in an attempt to calm herself, then she continued. 'I, too, took a liking in the girl and soon we became the closest two people could possibly get. We were not just friends, we were sisters and I shared everything with her. She.. she used to go to the chapel every night to light a candle for her father. That's where the trouble started. I only found this out later, but apparently she met there every night with the Phantom, or rather his voice, who she thought to be the Angel of Music, or even the ghost or her father himself.' Meg's voice had gone grave as she told me this and I could easily imagine how she'd relive those dark pages from the past. 'He… tutored her and after a while simply became obsessed with her. He blackmailed the late managers, threatened the former lady soprano, la Carlotta, and eventually got his way. His opera, Don Juan Triumphant, was performed with Christine as the leading lady. It was unlike any other opera we'd ever done before. It was as exciting as it was frightening and it was well.. The rest of the story you've already heard from Adrienne on your first day and I doubt you have forgotten. Although, something you don't know, is the following. When the Phantom took the leading male's place and sang with Christine it was… well, obscene, actually. The song they sang was the same song you were singing when I found you in the auditorium that afternoon.'

My mouth literally fell open. 'Oh dear Lord, Meg, I am so sorry!'

'No, it's fine, really. It's just.. I still wonder where you've learned it, as all the sheet music perished in the fire.'

I thought for a moment, hoping to find a proper answer. 'I don't know how it's possible I know both the music and the lyrics. I mean, I didn't even know about the whole affair around the Phantom of the Opera before I came here.'

Meg sighed. 'I'm really sorry, Angèlique. Leaving you in the dark about this was wrong of me and I hope that I'll be able to make it up to you one day.'

'You already have, my dear friend_, _just by being my friend.' For the second time that night, I hugged her and this time I actually felt good.

**pagebreak ~**

A few hours later, I was still wide awake and staring at the ceiling, the soft breathing of the other ballerinas a comforting background music to my thoughts.

It was rather strange, that even after all the redeeming conversations of that day and the unburdening of my heart, I still wasn't able to find some rest. Perhaps it had just been too much information to progress. After all, today's experiences had given me a lot to think about. Just thinking back to that morning gave me the feeling that I was looking back at least days ago.

I let out a sigh, recalling just how gloomy the day had seemed this morning. After all that criticism, I hadn't had much hope left for a good day. But somehow good things had found their way to me and had made today even one of the best days of the last week. No more lying, I told myself happily. I'd finally laid all my cards on the table and had made up with Meg. Things were almost starting to get.. normal again, almost good.****

_I was staring down on the stage once more, watching the dancers and singers perform with great dedication. I didn't recognize the piece, but for some reason nothing that happened surprised me. As I listened, I tried to numb out all the other sounds that emerged from the empty seats beneath me. It was then, that the entire auditorium went quiet and a girl entered the stage. Even from my place up here, I could see she was quite beautiful. She was frail and slender and looked more like a doll of Chinese porcelain than an actual woman of flesh and blood. Music started again and the young girl prepared herself to sing._

_All of the sudden, I had been transported to another place, another person even perhaps. It didn't seem at all strange, though. I was now actually on the stage myself, facing hundreds of people that were all waiting eagerly for the next song. At that moment, the music set in again and I took a breath. All nervousness had eased and had made room for a comforting, almost relieving knowingness that it would almost be over. Then, suddenly, the most wonderful, most perfect voice filled the auditorium and for a moment I stood frozen. My mind tried to fight against it, but I knew my soul would obey._

_Hands stroked up my arms, over my shoulders and down the sides of my torso, leaving my skin burning everywhere it was touched. I felt my head spin by the new sensations that filled my body and had a difficult time to begin my own couplet at the right moment. How could something feel so wrong and yet so right at the same time?_

_"We've passed the point of no return.."_

_As our last note died out, another, more soft and gentle song set in and goose bumps covered the skin of my arms, when the first words were whispered in my ear. I had been prepared for a lot – screaming, cursing, fighting – but not this. I couldn't.. not like this. With tears streaming down my cheeks, I leaned against his broad upper body and closed my eyes, wishing I could close my ears as well. Words echoed through my mind and I knew I had no choice. As well as I could, I tried to numb out his pleading, his love declaration , knowing that if I'd listen, I'd instantly fall for it, again. This man, this monster, though how bad I knew he was, my heart would always call out for him and answer his calling._

Suddenly, the world around me became blurry and another, less melodic voice pierced through the singing. 'Angèlique, Angèlique, please, open your eyes.' I felt something cold being pressed against my forehead and again the voice asked, more like pleaded me to wake up.

With a lot of effort, I pried my eyes open and stared in the rather concerned face of Anne. She was sitting on the edge of my bed and held a wet washcloth in her hand. I noticed she was still in her night gown and, looking around me, I saw that all the other ballerinas were still asleep as well.

'Dear, it's alright, everything's alright now. It was just a dream. Dry your tears, it wasn't real.'

It was only now that I noticed that my cheeks were wet and that my pillow was soaked. I pushed myself up and pulled my knees to my chin, folding my arms around my legs in an attempt to stop the terrible quivering.

'If you are calmed down a bit, I'll get you some water and then you can try to get back to sleep again, alright?'

'Thank you, you really are too sweet for me.' I whispered and smiled weakly.

'Oh dear, you are all shaking. Come here,' she said and wrapped me in her arms, pulling me closely against her chest. 'I'm going to get you something to drink now, it'll help calm your breathing. Do you think you'll be able to stay alone for a minute?'

I nodded and gave her another smile.

Though I probably didn't look very convincing, Anne let go of me and, after a final worried glance, made for the door. I watched as she tiptoed around the beds of the sleeping ballerinas and eventually went out of the dormitories.

When the door closed, darkness once more enveloped me and I couldn't help but let another stream of tears rush down my cheeks. Though how comforting and sweet Anne had been for me, she didn't understand. It was real. And more important, I had come to a terrible discovery. It was him. The Phantom. He was the man in my dreams.


	19. Chapter 19

The next day, at dance practice, I had a hard time concentrating. My mind was still trying to make sense of things and that, plus a lack of sleep, didn't do any good for my dancing. I messed up steps, turned in the wrong directions and forgot parts of the routine more than once, making me look like a total fool. _Madame_ Giry, who normally didn't have a single remark on my dancing, now literally spent the entire dance practice giving me disapproving looks.

Fortunately, after two hours of hell, she called in a break.

Relieved, I dropped myself on the floor and closed my eyes. Today was truly horrible. Or rather, I was truly horrible. I couldn't remember that I'd ever messed up so much as I did now. I sighed. Perhaps the Phantom was right after all, and I really was nothing but a foolish young girl, with hopes and dreams that were far from reachable..

'_Mademoiselle_ Fournier.'

My eyes fluttered open and I looked straight in the eyes of the dance instructor. _'Madame_ Giry,' I said, rather dumbfounded. 'What is it that I can do for you?'

'To begin with you could start dancing like yourself again. What I've seen today is horrible!I will not deny that I believe that you have it in you to become a great dancer,' she continued on a lower voice 'But if you keep dancing like this, I am afraid I must give the part to someone else. All these girls here would love to dance it and though they are nowhere near as good as I know you can dance, if this is all you can pull off, then I must let someone else dance it. Do you understand my problem, _mademoiselle_?'

I nodded and tried to swallow the lump in my throat, as well as fighting back the tears in my eyes.

She sighed and her face softened. 'Don't get me wrong, Angèlique, I don't want to put you under pressure. But I need to have someone I can count on, the Opera needs someone we can count on.'

'I understand, _madame_. I will not let you down, I promise.'

'Let's hope not,' _Madame_ Giry said and, after a strict but gentle nod, turned on her heel and took off to scold some girl for not paying attention during the lesson. It was weird, but even though she was very stern and didn't tolerate much, I liked _madame_ Giry. She was a good instructor and a good person.

I sighed and pulled myself up again. Just standing on my two feet took me great effort, but I knew I couldn't go in the wrong anymore. _Madame_ had made it quite clear; I either started dancing better again, or she'd find someone else to perform the prima ballerina part alongside Meg.

At that moment, as I started walking towards Meg and Marie-Claire, I felt a strange feeling and a shiver went down my spine. Looking around me, of course, I found nothing that could have caused it and I sighed. However, when I looked up, I could have sworn to see a movement in the shadows and all I knew was that it had been the Opera Ghost. He'd probably been listening in on the conversation with _madame_ Giry and no doubt would be laughing tremendously by now because I was actually failing and proving myself to be the foolish young girl he had said me to be.

Well not anymore, I thought to myself grimly. If that was what he wanted to believe, fine, but I would not let him get me down anymore.

And so, when _madame_ Giry announced that the practice would continue, I took a deep breath and gave my all. I blocked everything else from my mind, everything that could possibly distract me from dancing, and gave myself completely. For the first time in weeks, dancing was how it used to be again. I danced with my heart, with my soul and I felt more free than I'd done in a long time. And, perhaps even more important, I didn't make a single mistake.

**pagebreak ~**

Later that day, I couldn't help but feel good. I'd found it again. The love, the fire inside me that had made me dance in the first place. Because of the stress and the mystery in the Opera House, I'd lost it and all there had been left was a need to perform, to please. But today, I'd actually enjoyed dancing again and I realized this was what I'd needed. If I wanted to prove myself, I'd need to use this passion.

I looked up from the pages of Alice in Wonderland, suddenly realizing that I'd been staring at the same page for about half an hour. I still found it hard to focus on anything today, but fortunately I was now able to think more positively.

Suddenly, the door burst open and Adrienne came running in, a big smile plastered on her face. She held up a letter in her left hand and waved with it to me. 'Christophe sent me a letter!'

I smiled, seeing the childish happiness in her eyes as she seated herself next to me on my bed and quickly opened the envelope.

Her eyes scanned the content of the letter in a speed I had thought impossible and then looked at me with a mischievous grin. 'He invites me to have lunch with him this Saturday.' Her grin widened. 'And asked me to bring you along.'

'He did _what_?' I asked, rather confused.

'Well, of course he didn't use that much words, the coward, but well.. I'll read it to you.' She cleared her throat. '"It was wonderful to see you again and I'd love to spend some more time together. Perhaps we could enjoy lunch together on, let's say, Saturday and afterwards go shopping? You can ask a friend to join you, as I'm sure I won't be any good if it comes to fashion. Perhaps you could ask Angèlique?"' She smiled. 'I knew he had taken a liking to you.'

'He has?'

'Yes! Why else would he suggest to invite you?'

'I don't know,' I admitted. 'I honestly don't know..'

**pagebreak ~**

As I sat on the floor, I followed the lines in the parquetry, all the while trying not to think of any of the confusing thoughts in my head – therefore, of course, ending up thinking about all of them at once. I had always known how important marrying was for me. If I didn't find a man who could provide me with a house and food, I would end up an old maid or a prostitute, it was that simple. For now dancing would keep me safe, but when I'd grow older, I would be out on the streets once more. I couldn't return to my parents, as they already had a hard time looking out for just the two of them and Madeleine as it was. No, marrying was crucial if I wanted to live the rest of my life with even a bit of dignity. I knew that all too well. Therefore, it was quite incomprehensible why I was so withholding, now I knew there was a chance Christophe Rousseau fancied me. I mean, this was my chance. Adrienne's brother was a good man, with whom I could easily laugh and had pleasure spending time with. Not to mention he owned an estate and was of good birth. Yet, for some reason the idea of him courting me sounded strange, almost frightening. The time we had spend together in the auditorium was pleasant, but I'd never actually looked at him as a man I could marry, as a man at all really. We had had fun, but just as friends. I wondered, had I unjustly given him other ideas?

'Ah, I already thought I would be able to find you here.'

Startled, I looked over my shoulder, only to find Anne standing in the doorway.

'It's just me, no need to worry.' She walked up to me and lowered herself next to me on the floor. 'So, Adrienne told me she got a letter from her brother and said he showed some extra interest in you. Now that's an exciting twist, I dare say. When was it again the three of you will be going out for lunch?'

'Saturday,' I spoke in an almost inaudible voice. 'Though.. I haven't really agreed to come yet.'

'Why not? Don't you like _monsieur_ Rousseau?'

I fiddled with my fingers. 'No I.. I don't know really. It's… difficult,' I said, sounding as confused as I felt on the inside. I sighed and looked down at my ankles.

'I'm sorry. I didn't come here to press you on matters you don't want to talk about.' Anne smiled and squeezed my hand reassuringly. 'So, did you receive any post from your family lately?'

'I well.. I did some time ago and I planned on writing back yesterday, but things got in the way and I still have to do so. It's just.. I don't want to lie to them, you know? I don't want to make them worried about me, but don't want to lie about how things are going either.' I sighed. 'I do love them and miss them terribly. My mom, dad, little Madeleine..' I trailed off, as I got lost in memories of home. So much in fact, that I completely forgot Anne was sitting beside me and therefore her voice made me startle once again.

'Madeleine, is that your sister?'

'Yes, she is. She's nine years old now, soon to be ten on December the 14th. I wish I could be there on her birthday..'

'Is she your only sibling?'

I shook my head. 'I've got a brother as well. Émile is his name. He's not at home though. He's a few years older than me and travels a lot. Last time I saw him he was preparing for his next trip to Russia.' I smiled, as I recalled how he had chased me around the house, when I'd commented on his way of packing. 'I guess he will be still there now. Anyway, what about you. Do you have any brothers or sisters?'

'I.. I was the first child of my parents and my mom died while giving birth to me. So no, it's just me and my dad.' She looked up at my face and smiled weakly.

'Oh.. I'm sorry.. I didn't..'

'It's alright, Angèlique, really.' She shrugged, something I'd never seen her do before. 'I've never known anything else than this, so you don't have to pity me for missing anything in my life. Just.. don't, alright?'


	20. Chapter 20

Days passed by and as Saturday got closer and closer, I felt the lump in my throat grow bigger. I still hadn't really agreed on coming along, but I knew Adrienne just took it as a given that I would. Of course, I knew I had nothing to fear, as the little redhead would be there as well and it therefore probably wouldn't be awkward at all. Yet, that didn't make me any less nervous and frightened.

My fears and worries didn't make it easy for me to pay attention at the practices, but I tried my best anyway. I was still determined to do my very best and to show _madame_ Giry – and perhaps even more; the Phantom – that I had what it took to be prima ballerina. I wouldn't let her down. It took me almost all of my energy to perform at my best, however, as I still barely slept and, when I actually did fall asleep, had awful nightmares. If only I could turn the music box on at night, I was sure I'd sleep a whole lot better..

'Alright, that's it for today's practice. I'll see you girls tonight at the performance. Please, be careful in the meanwhile and the one who slips and breaks her ankle can be sure of a very unpleasant recovery.'

I bent over, with my hands on my knees, and panted heavily. Pushing myself this far sure took its toll and I wasn't sure for how long I could keep this up.

'_Mademoiselle_ Fournier, are you alright?'

Still panting, I looked up to the face of the elder woman and tried to smile. 'Yes, thank you. I'm just a bit tired.'

'I can see that,' she said, as she studied my face. 'I suggest you try to take some sleep before tonight, you look like you could collapse any second.'

I merely nodded, knowing it was no use telling her about my nightmares and disability to sleep. As fast as I could manage, I scrambled to my feet and, with a last polite nod towards the instructress, made for the dormitories. Of course I was not really planning on going to bed, because – like I already mentioned – it would be no use anyway. If I'd actually manage to fall asleep, my nightmares would only exhaust me more. No, trying to sleep would be pointless.

Therefore, when I reached my bed, I simply picked up Alice in Wonderlandfrom my nightstand and walked out of the room again. I would just go find myself a nice, quiet place to hide myself and read a bit– the dormitories were nowhere near that, with all those ballet rats running around.

Eventually, I decided to go to one of the private boxes, as they would also provide me with a soft, comfy chair to snuggle myself into. I would not be so stupid, though, as to return to box five once more. Instead, I made myself comfortable in the velvet chair of box one, which was at the other side of the auditorium, and curled myself up in the seat. After letting out a sigh of comfort, I pulled the navy blue ribbon from between the pages and started reading. Or rather, that had been the plan. That particular moment, however, a voice filled the box.

'Perhaps I was wrong..' It mused.

I startled, closed the book with a smack and turned around. No one, of course. 'Phantom?' I inquired, though I already knew the answer.

'Perhaps you are not the foolish girl I'd thought you to be.' He continued, choosing to ignore my question completely. 'I must admit, I was fairly surprised to see you dancing like that again. Seeing you dance at your audition, I, too, was impressed by your skills. But unlike _madame_ Giry, I gave up when I saw your dancing become more and more average.' He paused for a moment and for a moment, I thought about running out of the box. 'I've been watching you the last few days, you see.. Yes, yes, it was I you heard after your conversation with _madame_,' he added the latter when seeing my eyes flicker with realization. 'Anyways, that's not the point. The point is, now I'm passed my fit of anger and irritation, I _need_ to know something. How is it possible you know the song I wrote?'

I swallowed. 'I.. I don't know precisely, _monsieur_,' I answered silently, looking down at my hands. 'I have these dreams. I don't know how, or why, but I keep seeing the same thing over and over again. It's here, at the auditorium. She… _Mademoiselle _Daaé is on the stage and suddenly I am her and the music starts and you are there and we sing and..' I was at the edge of breaking down now, as I knew all too well what would happen next. And, if my dream truly was as real as I was now beginning to believe, he knew it too.

'So.. you are not connected to mademoiselle Daaé in any way?'

It was more of a statement than a question, but I shook my head in response nonetheless. 'No, _monsieur_, I am not.'

'I see,' he stated and at that moment, something inside of me changed. All fear I'd had disappeared, all anger for what he had done to Meg and Christine, to the entire Garnier Opera, was gone. What it was exactly, I did not know, but something in his voice had made me… feel for him. Pain and sadness were clearly audible in his voice and, just as I had in my conversation with Meg, a wave of guilt engulfed me.

I sighed and tried to regain my posture. '_Monsieur_.. I'm sorry, I truly am. At that time, I did not know the impact my singing could have on anyone. But now, as the dream has continued to expanse itself, I know how much the occurring that happened during that song must haunt you and I'm sorry..'

'How far?'

'How far what, _monsieur_?'

I could easily hear how he gritted his teeth. 'How far does this _dream_ of yours expanse?'

Confused, I furred my brows, until the meaning behind his question suddenly dawned on me. 'I did not see your face, if that is what you meant. I did hear you sing the song for me.. her, I mean. And what she did next, but before I could see anything, I woke up.'

'Well, in that case, I will gladly accept your apology, _mademoiselle_. I am afraid though, that I must go now, as I have matters of great importance to attend.'

'Please wait,' I called out and, before even realizing what I was doing, stood up from the red chair.

'Yes?'

'I.. well, it would only be fair if you'd show yourself to me, given the fact that you have been watching me since the very moment I arrived.' Again, I didn't realize the tiniest bit of what I was doing.

'What makes you think I care even the slightest thing about what is fair and what not?'

I sighed, knowing he was right. He was the Phantom of the Opera, for cry out loud. Surely he didn't get his reputation by helping out the stage hands and drinking tea with the orchestra.

Because of that, I started once more at the sound of his voice, as I had figured he would just have left me. 'Very well.'

I gazed around me, but was met with nothing but shadows around me. For a moment I thought he had simply lied and had left all the same, but that was when I saw the outlines of something in one of the corners of the box. It – or perhaps I should say _he _– was difficult to see, as the figure itself was black as well, but then he took a step forwards, into the light of the great chandelier. Like the last time I'd seen him, he was clothed fully in black, apart from a white shirt. Looking up to his face, I saw the same, white half mask covering one side of his face. 'Dear God_._'

His eyes, who had until now been quite neutral, though lacking of any emotions, suddenly turned ice cold and his face pulled into a menacing sneer.

_'_Oh, no_ monsieur, _please, that was not what I meant. It's just well, I'd never figured you'd be so.. tall.'

He looked down at me with a look of mixed disbelief and distrust.

'I'm not joking,' as to prove my statement, I took a few steps forward and came to a halt about a feet away from him. 'See, I look close to a midget standing next to someone of your height.' I had not lied, he really was a lot taller than I had imagined. However, the fact that his height made him a lot more intimidating as well, I decided to keep to myself.

I heard him sigh. '"Why is a raven like a writing desk?"'

I looked up in surprise. 'You've read the book?'

He smiled, but it was a tired kind of smile and for the first time I wondered how old he really was. 'I've had a lot of free time on my hands, child. It would be quite a miracle if you could find a book I have not read yet.'

I sighed and frowned a little. 'Well, truthfully, I don't really know what to make of this one. I don't understand it, it's all confusing and just crazy.'

'But then tell me, what is not in this world?'

I merely frowned upon that one, not knowing what to answer.

'Here, allow me,' he said as he picked up the book and gestured for me to come closer. As he flipped through the pages with leather gloved fingers, he looked at me and said, knowingly. 'Whether something is crazy or not, entirely depends on the way you choose to look at them.'

**The Phantom's point of view**

When he finally got back to his lair, it was already half past six in the evening. After having told her he really needed to get some important things done, she had jumped from the velvet chair, in complete distress because she still needed to eat and get ready for tonight's performance. As she had ran off towards the dining hall, he had made his way down slowly, because truthfully, there was nothing he had to do, no business to take care off.

Wearily, he tossed his cape over an armchair and sat himself on the organ bench. He was tired. Tired of the world. Tired of humanity all together. The only reason he still played his games, was because he needed the money to survive. And even about that he wasn't sure as to why he still bothered. What was the point of living if this was as good as it'd get?

The Phantom sighed as he looked down to the book he still held in his hands. The girl had left it in her hurry to get to dinner. He wasn't quite sure what to make of her. Even after all he'd seen in his life, this was completely new to him. It reminded him of the fortune teller, back when he was still with the gipsies' traveling fair. Only, did her dreams not predict the future, but tell about the past. He frowned. No, he didn't understood the least of it and that fact annoyed him greatly.

About the girl herself, he understood probably just as little. Though she'd looked so much like Christine – a pang of sadness hit him at the mere thought of her – at the Masquerade, she'd soon proven to be nothing like her. Not only in looks was she completely different, but the rest of her was as well. Her voice was nothing like that of his Angel. Granted, it was not an unpleasant voice to hear, even when singing, but it had a much smaller range than that of his beloved and clearly missed the potential to ever be used professionally. The greatest difference, however was definitely one in character. Where his Christine had been fragile, this girl had proven to be more resistant, as he had raged against her, criticized her and still she had not broken to pieces. Yes, when he'd razed her to the ground she'd completely broken down and had even cried – he had seen her do so as he studied her from behind a hidden panel in the wall. But she had not shattered to pieces, as his Angel would have done. She had even been quite nice to him and it had almost been pleasant to talk with her that afternoon.

He didn't understand it at all, but decided not to think about it anymore. He would return her book to her tonight and that would be the end of whatever bond they had. It would be useless to actually try and be her friend, anyways. Soon she would run from him as well, just like all the others did. Whether it was because of stories, or something he did, she eventually would run, too. Just like all the others had done before her. Just like his Angel.

**~**

**As you may or may not have noticed, I didn't use the Phantom's name in this chapter, nor do I plan to use it in the near future. This is partly because I want to point out how important his name is (almost like some intimate secret you only tell the ones closest to you), but also because I want to emphasize just how much he is the the Phantom alter ego right now. **


	21. Chapter 21

After the Phantom had told me the time, I'd jumped up and practically flown through the Opera House. I knew it was very improper and I prayed God to not have me encounter anyone, but I also knew I was on a tight schedule. The Opera would begin at eight and in the time in between I still needed to eat, dress, stretch and warm up.

My stomach rumbled and I realized it had been since breakfast that I had eaten something. After practice I'd gone to the dormitories immediately and I noticed I was kind of hungry. However, eating something might not be such a good idea, as the nerves of performing still made me feel nauseous before every show and I didn't want to end up throwing up on _mademoiselle_ Dampierre's shoes. Therefore, I changed courses and ran towards the dormitories to get my pointe ballet shoes and, when I'd done just that, made my way towards the backstage area.

When I arrived, I was panting heavily and it took me a while to get my breathing under control. Pesky stamina. I quickly went to _madame_ Broussard, the costume maker, to get my outfit and then joined the other ballerinas in the dressing room. As usual, the girls were chatting and gossiping gleesome and, naturally, much too loud. Because of that, it took me a while to realize someone was calling my name. In fact, I must admit, I did not notice until I was tapped on the shoulder. I turned around.

'Are you alright?'

I furrowed my eyebrows a little in confusion. 'Yes, I am, thank you. Why wouldn't I be?'

Meg let out a sigh of relief. 'I don't know.. You just disappeared after practice and when you didn't show up at dinner, we were just worried, I guess.' She shrugged her shoulders. '_I _was worried. You know, with all these strange things going on lately.'

'I'm sorry, Meg. I was just a little tired and needed some rest, so I took my book and well.. I guess I completely lost track of the time.' That was not a lie. I mean, I obviously let out the part where the Phantom of the Opera came in and had a nice conversation with me, but not a single word of what I'd said was a lie.

She nodded. 'Alright, I'm just glad you're okay.. You are really okay, right?'

I smiled. 'Yes, don't worry. I'm not even tired anymore.' That, too, wasn't a lie. For some reason, all exhaustion had disappeared and I was filled with a strange burst of energy. I suspected it had something to do with my encounter with the Phantom, as it felt a lot like the adrenalin rushes I used to get as a child, whenever I did something dangerous or adventurous. Like when I'd climb in a tree, wearing my good dress just before we'd go to church. Or when I was chased around the house by my brother, knowing that if he'd get me I'd be tickled to death.

'Alright, well let me help lacing you up, these outfits are truly impossible.'

**pagebreak ~**

As the last note died out, I fought from collapsing on the floor. Instead, I stayed on the tips of my toes, perfectly motionless and with a big smile on my lips as the audience tried to overrule the deafening beating of my heart. True to the promise I'd made to _madame_ Giry, I'd given my all once again and, despite the extreme exhaustion, I was more than satisfied with the results.

When the curtains started closing, I couldn't keep my eyes from fluttering up towards box five, which was still empty. It didn't matter though, I told myself, _madame_ Giry's contentment was all I needed. I widened my smile, probably more to myself than to the audience that had now almost disappeared behind the large curtains, and pushed away the small voice in my head that told me otherwise.

Almost as soon as the curtains had fully closed, I was tapped on my shoulder. As I turned around, I looked straight in the face of a very merry looking dance instructress, who was – in fact – smiling widely to me. She gestured me to follow her as she left the stage.

With great effort, I willed my legs into motion once again and followed the proud woman as she took me far behind the stage, between the sets. I understood why she'd taken me far away from the curtains, as it was undesirable for the audience to be able to hear anything that happened on stage. Yet, the way she had led me away from the others made me feel uneasy, even when she'd been smiling at me all the time.

'Angèlique that was.. I honestly don't know what to say about it.'

I stared at my feet, too afraid to look her in the eyes, out of fear of seeing anger or disdain in them, or even worse; disappointment. Because of all things, I hated letting people down the most. I could handle fury, but not disappointment. 'Was it _that _bad?' I dared to ask, my voice sounding more like the squeaking of a mouse than an actual human voice.

'Bad, bad? My dear girl, you were absolutely marvellous. In all honesty, I think people were more focused on your dancing than on the voice of that Dampierre woman.' I did not miss the way she spit out the singer's name, even in my current state of astonishment.

'Really?'

_Madame_ nodded, then looked me over and I saw her eyebrows come down in a frown. 'Are you alright, Angèlique?'

It was only now that I noticed how my legs were shaking underneath me and I could only imagine my face looking like something closer to the countenance of a ghost than that of a healthy, young girl. 'Yes, I'm just a bit tired,' I said, adding a smile to keep her from worrying.

The frown on her face did not leave though, and for a moment I saw a flash of the sweet, caring mother she must be to Meg. 'That's not the first time I've heard that. How come you don't get enough rest? Is it because of the younger girls, because I can always ask the managers to…-'

'No, no, _madame_,' I interrupted her quickly, not wanting to put any blame on the younger ballerinas. 'It's just that I was really tensed for this show, I was really nervous, you see. This would be the first time I'd dance the lead in front of an entire audience and I wanted to do it right, so much, that I just couldn't fall asleep, I guess.' I rambled, hoping she would drop the subject, as it would be impossible to tell her about my nightmares, or about the dreams of the Phantom.

She pursed her lips and simply nodded again, though I was not sure if she believed me or not. 'Very well, you'd better go change then and go to bed as soon as possible. And please, if you're there, tell those girls to be quiet for once. I could hear them talking and laughing even in my quarters.'

'Yes, _madame_,' I said and curtsied shortly, after which I turned on my heal and made my way towards the dressing rooms, completely worn down and ready to collapse any second. Fortunately, half way there I ran into Marie-Claire, who did not only accompany me during my walk, but also helped me get out of that tedious costume – Meg had been right, it really was impossible.

At last, after what seemed like an eternity, we arrived at the dormitories. After a quick goodnight, Marie-Claire walked off towards her own bed and left me to my last few feet towards my bed. I literally dragged myself forward, only the promise of a soft mattress and a comfortable pillow keeping me from crashing on the floor then and there.  
>When I'd reached my bed, I collapsed on the mattress and let down a satisfied sigh. I'd made it. I was lucky everybody else was already in bed and the lights were already out, otherwise I'd have had to go to the bathroom to change. Instead, I writhed myself out of my dress and pulled on my night gown.<p>

As my head hit the pillow again, I suddenly noticed something lying on the top of my nightstand. Tilting my head a little, I could read the curly letters on the front. Alice in Wonderland. On top of it lay a rose. I knitted my brows, but couldn't bring myself to wonder about it, as exhaustion took over my body and soon I was lost in dreams once more.


	22. Chapter 22

For the first time in what seemed like an eternity, I slept through the entire night, without dreaming about macabre creatures and nightmarish scenes. I did not know what had caused this intermission of my normal sleeping pattern, but I sure was happy when I woke up the next morning, feeling less tired than I'd felt in quite some time.

When I opened my eyes, I noticed the other girls were still sleeping. It gave the dormitory an almost peaceful appearance, something that was impossible if the ballet rats were awake and chattering away about nothing in particular. I smiled to myself. Though I had complained to myself more than once about their excessive noise and mindless conversations, I'd become quite attached to every single one of the girls and now viewed them as my family. Although sometimes undesired, but still a family I'd come to care about deeply.

I sighed and turned over, as I was starting to lose all feeling in my left arm. Looking out of the window, I noticed the sun was only just rising and was only inches above the horizon. It really must be still very early then. However, closing my eyes again, I soon came to realize that it would be impossible for me to go back to sleep. I kept switching positions for ten minutes or so, but eventually gave up and sat up. Rubbing the sleep from my eyes, it took me quite a while before my gaze fell upon the objects that lay on my nightstand. Several memories came rushing back and I furrowed my eyebrows as I reached for the flower. As I picked it up carefully, I noticed there were no thorns on the stem and I twirled it around in my fingers, mesmerized by the beautiful flower. Meg had told me once that the Phantom of the Opera used to send Christine roses, red roses with a black ribbon tied to the stem. Could this one have been send by the same man? Although there was no ribbon, a part of me had no doubt that it was. After all, who else could have found the book and have known it was mine? Apart from him, only Adrienne knew and there was no way that she could have been in one of the boxes last night.

Suddenly, another realization dawned on me and I nearly crushed the rose in shock. Today was the lunch date with Adrienne and her brother. How could I have forgotten? I shook my head as I laid the rose back on my nightstand and sighed. Today would undoubtedly be quite eventful.

**pagebreak ~**

By the time _madame_ Giry called practice to an end, I was literally shaking with nervousness and anxiety. Apparently it was clearly visible, as Anne came to me as soon as _madame_ Giry finished talking.

'Are you alright?'

I simply nodded, not trusting my voice enough to actually try to say something.

She looked me up and down. 'Is this all because of the lunch date with Adrienne and monsieur Rousseau?' As she said that, her lips turned into a sympathetic smile and she pulled me into an embrace. Obviously my face had given her the answer before I could even open my mouth. 'It will be alright, I'm sure. He wouldn't have asked you to come, if he hadn't enjoyed your company on the masquerade. Just be yourself and everything will be just fine.'

Again, I just nodded and tried to keep the tears in my eyes from falling. Somehow, Anne always knew how to make me feel better, even in moments like this, when I seemed to be on the verge of losing it. 'Thank you,' I whispered softly. Then, as I took a deep breath and regained my posture, I let go of my dear friend and smiled. 'I'd better go to the dormitories and change into something more.. appropriate.'

Anne nodded and smiled 'Alright, I'll see you later then.'

'Yes.. so long.' With that, I turned on my heel and made my way back to the dormitory. As most girls went straight from practice to the dining hall for lunch, I found the dorm completely deserted. I couldn't help but feel relieved, as I didn't feel like pretending to be my serene and peaceful self at that moment.

When I came to a stop before my closet, another wave of anxiety came over me. I didn't have anything to wear. I mean, naturally, I had enough dresses that I could wear, but none of them were really proper for a lunch date with people as wealthy as Adrienne and her brother. Of course, in the safety of the Opera House, it was perfectly fine to walk around in simple dresses, as even the girls of higher descent didn't bother dressing up properly.

I pinched the bridge of my nose and, after another deep sigh, starting pushing through the various dresses. However, all too soon I came to the conclusion that I, indeed, had nothing to wear. I lowered myself on the floor and rested my head in my hands. 'Now what?' As soon as the words had left my mouth, I heard the door open.

'Angèlique? Angèlique, are you here?'

'Yes, over here!' I called back, and pulled myself up again. 'Is something wrong?'

Meg shook her head, smiling. 'No, I just figured you'd need some help.'

I blushed at that and gazed at the floor embarrassedly. 'I suppose you could say so, yes.'

'Well, let's see what we've got to work with.' Enthusiastically, she flipped through the dresses, only to end up with a look of dissatisfaction on her face. 'Is this everything_?'_

'Yes, I..-'

'Come with me,' she said and grabbed my arm. Before I could even protest, Meg started dragging me over to her bed and commanded me to sit down, while she opened her closet.

'Oh no, Meg, I couldn't possibly…-' I started, as I realized what she was doing, but she interrupted me.

'I don't want to hear it.'

'But Meg..-'

'No.'

'But I can't just..-'

'Save yourself the effort.'

'Meg…-'

'Ahh, there it is.' As she said that, she pulled out a long, light green dress from her closet. Though it was quite simple in design, by the fabrics alone I could tell it wasn't just a cheap, unelaborate gown. The cleavage was cut quite deep, but not more than was modest. 'Come on, try it on.' She insisted, when I didn't take it from her.

Knowing it was no use declining – and at the other hand being aware of the fact that I didn't have any other considerable options – I hesitantly took the dress from her and went into the bathroom to change. After I'd changed into the green dress, I went back to Meg and asked her embarrassedly if she could lace me up. Meg of course, being the sweet girl I'd known her to be from the very start, only smiled and tightened the strings of the corset a bit and tied them softly.

'All done,' she said and turned me around. 'Now we just need to fix your hair and you would be able to have tea with the king himself.' She giggled and pulled me back to the bathroom. After having brushed my hair, she pulled my hair back into a bun and deliberately let some of the locks hang loose. Looking at my reflection in the mirror, I almost felt.. beautiful. Although I normally was just plain looking, especially standing next to girls like Meg, or Anne or Adrienne, dressed up I could almost pass for.. something more.

'Oh how they grow up so fast. It seems only yesterday I saw you running around in your diaper and now my little girl is going out,' Meg said, laughing as she squeezed my cheeks in a fake motherly manner.

'I'm only seventeen yet,' I objected, laughing as well.

'Indeed.. old hag!' Meg gave me a playful shove and then continued, trying to be serious. 'We'd better go downstairs now, I'm sure _monsieur_ Rousseau will be here any minute.'

Suddenly, a wave of anxiety rushed over me again and I was afraid I'd faint right then and there, but fortunately I could get a hold on the sink before I collapsed on the floor. Because of all the fun I'd had with Meg, I'd completely forgotten about the reason I was dressing up in the first place.

'Are you alright?'

'Yes, just.. nervous.' I said, trying to calm my nerves a bit while I smoothed out the hem of my dress. 'Alright, let's go.'

As Meg grabbed my arm once more, I took a deep breath and tried to look as confident and elegant as I could.

Approaching the main hall, I could almost dance to the rhythm of my wildly beating heart. It was really ridiculous, as I had nothing to fear. _Monsieur_ Rousseau was a kind and pleasant gentleman, whose company I'd enjoyed greatly at the Masquerade. However, this logic did nothing to calm me or even reach my brains at all.

At last, when we reached the lobby, I saw both brother as sister already standing in the middle of the large room. Adrienne was dressed in one of her many beautiful gowns. This one was a very, very light shade of blue and had a ribbon on both of the shoulders, the same colour as the one in her hair. Her brother, too, was dressed perfectly to current fashion. But although his clothes looked styled exquisitely, he did not look like a fop at all. No, somehow the fashionable clothing he wore still looked nonchalant and unstudied, where it would have made anyone else look like a dandy. His hair had the same perfect, but at the same time completely nonchalant, look to it. Yes, _monsieur_ Rousseau was indeed a beautiful man.

'Ah there you are, Christophe and I have been waiting for _ages_ already. What took you so long?'

'Oh be silent you_, _we haven't even left the Opera and you already managed to make her feel embarrassed!' Her brother said, rather disapprovingly. 'I'm so sorry for you two girls, I can only imagine what horror it must be to live with her on a daily basis.'

I heard a soft giggle and, in all my nervousness, couldn't contain myself either. It really _was _quite amusing to see the two siblings bicker like this. It reminded me of home and my own brother.

'Thank you very much,' Adrienne murmured, fake offended. 'Well let us go now, before my brother has the chance to hurt my delicate feelings even more.'

I nodded and bid Meg farewell, then I took _monsieur_ Rousseau's hand who – after saying Meg good bye as well – led me towards the great doors. When we descended the stairs from the Garnier, several people gazed at us and I could imagine them thinking he was lucky man, walking with two young ladies on his arm. He helped Adrienne and me in a luxurious looking carriage that had been standing in front of the Opera House and after we'd seated ourselves on the velvet cushions, the conversation continued on the same rate.

'So when will you propose?'

'When will I what?'

'You know, ask her to marry you.'

'Who?'

'Grandmother! No, you idiot, Angèlique of course!'

'Adrienne, stop it, you're making this incredibly uncomfortable for her, and for me as well.'

'Well, it's only fair that she knows what she's up to, isn't it?'

'I'm not planning on proposing! Don't get me wrong, Angèlique, you are a very attracting young woman, but I do not plan on marrying someone without even knowing what she is like. '

I just watched the whole conversation as a game of tennis, not sure about what I was supposed to feel or do. Adrienne decided how she was going to play the ball and her brother, the poor, poor man, could only try his best to hit the ball back as best as he could and answer in a manner that was both proper and polite. 'You didn't offend me at all,' I said quickly, not knowing what else to say. It might be better to keep myself outside of their – or rather Adrienne's – attack with words.


	23. Chapter 23

As the day went on, I found myself feeling more and more at ease in the company of Adrienne and her brother. Though he was teasing his sister constantly, never once did _monsieur_ Rousseau – who kept insisting I'd call him by his front name – act inappropriate or even less amiable than I knew him to be. Even the jokes about his so-called feelings became less uncomfortable, as I came to the conclusion that this was just Adrienne's way of teasing her brother.

After the carriage had dropped us off we'd ventured into the centrum of Paris, to all of those expensive shops where I'd only been before once. Though I knew Adrienne's brother didn't come here very often either (the Rousseau family was from Rouen and his estate was in that area as well), he didn't seem quite as out of place as I felt myself. Even with the expensive looking dress on, I felt as if everyone knew I didn't belong in that social circle. However, I didn't have much time to think about these things, as Adrienne soon pulled me into another one of the fashion shops.

'Good God, have you seen this dress? Oh Christophe, please, can I have it?' Adrienne begged, her eyes two big brown orbs.

'First go and try it on, before you buy another dress that you will never wear,' her brother chuckled and gave her a soft shove towards the back of the shop, where the fitting rooms were.

As we watched the young girl skip towards the dressing rooms, I couldn't conceal the smile that was tugging at the corners of my mouth. She really was a strange, but sweet girl.

'I feel for you..'

The smile disappeared as soon as it had come and I turned to look at him in shock. 'Excuse me?'

'I am deeply sorry, I did not mean it like that. I fear my foolish sister has given you the wrong ideas about my intentions. Please, believe me when I say I asked you to come out of nothing but friendly affection.'

I nodded, trying to control my breathing again and at the same time trying to put on a straight face again. 'It's alright, really.'

'Are you sure? You looked really scared.'

I gazed down at my feet, but, fortunately for me, before I had the chance to even try to explain myself, Adrienne came out of the fitting room. She wore a light, pastel pink summer dress, the skirt a few tints darker than the bodice. The design was quite daring, showing more cleavage than I'd dare and the skirt being just a few inches below the knees.

'It's quite… revealing,' _monsieur_ Rousseau admitted, sounding rather blunt.

'It's the latest fashion!'

'Well, I'm sure father wouldn't care if it's fashion or not.. Oh fine, you can have it.' He said and, looking at her gay face, quickly added; 'But don't tell _maman _and _papa_!'

'Not a word!' She squeaked, overly happy, and practically danced back to the fitting rooms. At some point I thought I even heard her sing, but I couldn't be quite sure, as at the same moment her brother began talking again.

'I hope you are a bit hungry, as we will be having lunch after Adrienne's done.'

I nodded and smiled politely, not daring to admit that I was far too uneasy to eat as much as one bite without throwing it out immediately. No, it was definitely not a good idea to mention that. 'Yes, thank you.'

'Okay, I'm ready!' And indeed, not a moment later a giddy Adrienne showed up at my side, a large bag dangling on her arm. She linked her free arm with mine and, as we left the shop, asked in a fake innocent tone of voice; 'So, did I miss any intimate conversations?'

**pagebreak ~**

At lunch, things were almost.. normal. Apart from a few soft remarks, Adrienne acted like a perfect lady. The way she sat in her chair, how she handled her silverware, her entire being betrayed her high up bring and, seeing her like this, one would not think she was only fourteen. In all honestly, this made me feel quite uncomfortable, as I was well aware of the fact that I wasn't nearly as refined as her. No matter what dress I'd wear, I was still nothing more than a tailor's daughter.

'So, how do you enjoy life in the Opera Garnier, _mademoiselle_?'

'It's wonderful, thank you.' I spoke softly, hoping I wouldn't sound too uncivilized, and straightened my back.

'Adrienne told me you were from the countryside. Where exactly do you come from, if I may ask?'

'A small town, just a few miles to the east of Bourges.'

'And you lived there with your parents..?'

'Yes,' I swallowed a pea. 'My parents and my little sister. My brother lives there as well, but he travels a lot.'

'Ah I see. I enjoy traveling myself as well, but haven't seen half as much as I'd like to. But those places I have seen were beautiful, and I'd very much like to visit them again some day. Perhaps with a wife, or with my children, but the world is something extraordinary and I think it's a shame to let so much of it be left unseen.'

'Oh brother, please, now is not the time to bore my friend with musings about whatever country it is you are dreaming about this time. I am sure there will come a day when there will be someone in dying need of a story about your travels, but please, for the love of God, let us now enjoy our meals.'

And with that, the conversation came to an end. I could not say I minded, as the sudden interest in my being made me not only slightly uneasy, but also at a loss for words. And so I was left to my still almost completely full plate and almost equally as full brain.

**pagebreak ~**

Back in the dormitories, I lowered myself on my bed and touched the back of my hand awkwardly. At our parting _monsieur_ Rousseau had gently grabbed my hand and, after a fair-spoken farewell, pressed his lips softly on top of it. The skin still tingled as I traced it with the tips of my fingers and I frowned in confusion. Never before had a man kissed me goodbye, even if it were only to be placed on my hand. Frankly, I hadn't had much contact with any people in my life before I came to the opera. Back home, I simply didn't have time for things like that. I helped my parents, danced and watched my little sister. Not that I'd been unhappy, but I can't deny that there had been moments I had been rather lonely.

I sighed and quickly changed into my night gown. Today had been exhausting. Not just physically, but mentally as well, perhaps even more so. I had had another taste of a life that would never be mine and was so different in every aspect that it had both excited and depressed me. Another sigh escaped my lips and I shook my head as I started to braid my hair, a custom I had picked up from the girls here.

As I laid down in bed, I could see through the high window that the sun had only just started setting and I figured it could not be later than eight. That was probably the reason the dormitory was empty. Saturday evenings that were not filled with opera performances were not spend indoors by most girls. Some would even visit their families and come back tomorrow. I suppressed a yawn and turned on my other side.

For the second time that day mesmerized by its beauty, I picked up the rose from my nightstand and breathed in its sweet scent. My mother had once told me flowers had their own language, one every living soul understood. They said things that one couldn't express with words and stirred feelings beyond the surface. What this one said, I did not know, but it was sure to be something good.

I carefully placed the flower in the upper drawer of my night table and, after making sure I wouldn't crush one of the delicate petals with closing it, took the book. The title glistered at me in a familiar, golden way and I traced the material of them with my index finger. I had looked forward to reading it again, I realized, even though I had not understood a word of what it said. However, when I opened it a piece of paper fell out and fluttered down into my lap. Curiously, I furrowed my brows and picked it up. It was folded in an oddly manner and on the front was my name in red ink. I opened it with hands shaking with curiosity and started reading. "_Mademoiselle_.."


	24. Chapter 24

I don't understand.. That had been the only thought in my head for two hours now, and I still did not understand. Not even after two hours of thinking I'd figured it out. Meanwhile, ballet rats had come back from their days off and had filled the room with chatter, laughter and giggling. I'd pretended I was asleep, so I wouldn't have to talk to anyone.

I turned on my other side and let out a soft sigh. I still held the letter in my hand and the more time passed, the more I wished I'd never opened it. My head was hurting from all the pondering. My fingers cramped from being in the same firm hold for so long. "I wish you the best of luck in life_, mademoiselle." _What did he mean by that? Would I never see him again? I mentally scorned myself, of course it meant that. But why did that leave me feeling so low?

He had been nice to me, I realized. And though he had been reserved and perhaps even hostile and times, he was real. He was no member of society and the kindness he had showed me was not part of an act. He had scorned me the first time we met, so that he had been nice to me the second time only meant so much more because of that. Perhaps even more so, I felt connected to him in some way. My dreams, as strange as it might sound, bound him to me. I didn't know for what reason, or how, but it felt like a sign from some higher power. "I bid you farewell." And that was it. I had read the words over and over so many times that they were now printed in my memory, constantly dancing in front of my closed eyes. Had I done something wrong? I couldn't imagine, as I'd had the feeling that we'd both enjoyed the conversation the day before. Had I been wrong? I frowned. No, it was him who had brought up the book. Perhaps he had just been trying to be friendly? Another part of my brain argued. No, no that was unlikely. There was no reason for him to even consider being polite to me. And that made things only less understandable.

**pagebreak ~**

When I woke up, I was completely disorientated for a moment. When had I fallen asleep? Behind the high window, I could see the moon shining bright. I brushed some strands of hair from my face and suddenly became aware of something that had been softly touching my cheek for the entire time. Reaching up with my hand, I soon closed my fingers around a piece of paper and memories came rushing back. A sudden wave of nausea came up and I sprinted towards the bathroom, where I emptied my stomach above the toilet. Weakened, I sank to my knees and rested my head against the wall. My body started quivering, but I couldn't bring myself to do anything to stop it. Tears began to show in the corners of my eyes and a second wave made me bend over the toilet once more, throwing up the last remainders of my stomach content.

As I leaned back again, I felt worse than I'd felt in years. Salt drops spilled from my eyes and I prayed to God that I could go home. 'I need you, _maman_.'

**pagebreak ~**

Days passed by slowly in the Opera House for the next few weeks. Life was routine and I lived it as just that. I woke up, got dressed, went down to the dining hall, would try to eat and after failing at that, would spend the rest of the day dancing. As much as I wanted to go home and cry in my mother's lap – even though I had no idea what the real reason was – I pretended like nothing was wrong. I danced the way I had done before; with passion and precision. When Meg had asked me if something was wrong, I'd just told her I missed my family, something she understood. Soon the holidays would be here and then we'd have some time to visit family, she had told me.

In the meanwhile, my nightmares had returned at full force and there was nothing to keep me safe from the darkness anymore. I was drowning again. And this time, I had no one to save me.

A letter had arrived from home, but I couldn't find the will to answer it. All I could tell them were lies. Perhaps I'd write them later, when I'd gotten a hold of myself again.

I looked around me. The dining room was filled with ballerinas, all enjoying dinner and engaged with one another in conversation. I stared at the plate in front of me. There were some leaves of lettuce and a small potato and, as few as I knew it was, I already knew I wouldn't be able to finish even half of it.

'Would you please eat something?'

'I did,' I protested, but Meg wouldn't let it be.

'Those two leaves of lettuce,' she scoffed, 'Yes that will surely keep you going.'

'I'm fine.'

'Oh I can see that. Angèlique, I hate to tell you this, but we really worry about you.'

'Why?'

'Why? Have you seen yourself lately? You barely eat, you barely sleep. What has gotten into you?'

'Nothing, I'm fine.' I looked her in the eyes. 'Really Meg, there is nothing to worry about.'

She gave me one last sceptical look but, knowing that she couldn't force anything out of me, let it rest. Fortunately. I don't think I could have explained it to her, even if I had wanted to. There was no explanation for my behaviour. Why had my nightmares returned? Why wasn't I able to keep any food down?

I swung my legs over the bench. 'I'm going to get some fresh air,' I said and dashed out of the room.

Instead of going straight to my destination, I had made a pit stop at the dormitories – which, fortunately, were still empty – and had taken the music box with me. Sneaking through the Opera House, I'd had the luck that I didn't encounter anyone and had made it up the winding stairs in less than fifteen minutes. Now, as I sat between the large sculptures that adorned the roof, I let out a deep sigh. The sculptures would have made me feel quite insignificant, meaningless even, if it weren't for the music box that balanced on my legs. As always, it was my life buoy and I clamped on to it for dear life. Soon, I got carried away on the sweet melodies that flooded from the small, wooden case. Softly humming along, I placed the music box next to me and pulled my knees up to my chest.

'_L'histoire éternelle, touche de son aile, la Belle et la Bête_,' I whispered softly, knowing the poem that belonged to the music by heart. I stared off in the distance, thinking about the times my mother would tell me the story. A young, beautiful, unique young woman who'd come to rescue her father from an enchanted castle and would give up her own freedom for it. She was forced to live there with a monster, a beast, who had been cursed by a witch to look as ugly as he was on the inside. But things were not as they seemed and he was not a beast, not at all in fact. They'd grow fond of each other and in the end, her love would save him from a life time of living like a monster.

It was a beautiful story, my favorite, in fact. But for some reason I felt something brewing inside of me, as if my unconsciousness was trying to tell me something, something important. However, I couldn't figure out what it was.

I played the tune again and leaned against the cold marble of the giant horse statue. With my eyes closed, I could see images from the storybook flash by. As a child, I'd often wondered what I would have done if it was me who was locked in a castle with a man like that. For some reason, I'd never seen ugliness when my mother told me the story and showed me the images. But if it were real, would I have been able to see past the appearance as well, no matter how frightening that would be? And if I would be able to look past the outside, would I be able to love a man, so cold and mean, but at the other hand sweet and loving? I was older now, but somehow I was not able to answer any of those questions.

_'Tout comme les étoiles, s'éteignent en cachette. L'histoire eternelle, touché de son aile. __La Belle et la Bête..'_ I sighed and opened my eyes again. The night sky was clear and bright stars filled the air. Beneath my feet, Paris was already vast asleep and most of the lights had gone out. It was time to go to bed. With difficulty, I pulled myself up and straightened out my dress. However, for the umpteenth time that day a wave of dizziness washed over me. This time, however, it didn't fade away and I collapsed to the floor, unconsciousness taking over before my head hit the ground.

**The French parts are from the song "Tale as old as Time" from the Beauty and the Beast movie. This is the French version of the song and I must admit that, having translated the French song, the lyrics aren't quite the same as they are in English. However, I suppose the meaning behind the song is the same.**


	25. Chapter 25

When I came to, I found myself gazing up at a clear night sky. As I sat myself up, I held my face in my hands. I couldn't remember falling asleep. In all honesty, the last thing I remembered was that I was going back to the dormitories. I sighed, my head was throbbing and I felt overall awful. What was wrong with me? I wondered and rested my head against one of the statues, the giant horse I noticed. Vaguely, images surfaced and I furrowed my brows.

Scanning the dark roof with my eyes, I was relieved to find the music box not far from my reach, standing in the shadow of the very statue that I was leaning against. I picked it up carefully and played the tune once, before I scrambled to my feet. Shakily, as if I'd never used my legs before, I made my way to the roof door and from thereon to the dormitories, where I collapsed on my bed. With great effort, I managed to put the music box on my night stand and after that fell into a restless sleep.

_I found myself walking through dark tunnels again. I was bare feet and I shivered as a cold wind blew through my white cotton night robe. I can't stop, I have to keep walking, I told myself as I suppressed the stinging pain in my feet. In front of me lay nothing but darkness, but I knew what was behind me was far worse. I felt it creep up from behind, ready to pull me back into the endless darkness at any moment. My breath got caught in my throat and I quickened my pace. Looking at my feet, I noticed they were bleeding and, entranced, I watched as they left a trace of blood behind. Lurking shadows pulled me out of my hypnosis and urged me to speed up. As I ran through the endless maze of corridors, I felt the darkness behind me getting closer. What was I running to? I wondered. And more importantly, what was it that I was running from?_

_Suddenly, a shadow got hold of my left foot and I tripped, falling over and grazing my knees. I scrambled back to my feet and ran on, my robe now stained with dirt and blood. When I turned another corner, I came to a short stopping. I'd hit dead end. I was trapped. Just as that realization dawned on me, the darkness took hold of me and pulled me under._

I woke up in start, panting heavily and lying in a pool of sweat. Trying to control my breathing, I sat up and hugged my knees. In the silver moonlight, I gazed at the white of my night robe, but found nothing of the dirt or blood on it. It was merely a dream_._ I told myself, but my body wouldn't stop shaking. My arms were covered in goose bumps and I felt my heart beat wildly in my chest. That night would be one of the worst nights I'd have in years.

**pagebreak ~**

'Is it because of Christophe?'

I stared at her, rather dumbfounded. We had been stretching our legs, to warm up before dance practice and we hadn't said anything to one another until that moment. How I'd managed to get down to the ballet studio in one piece was beyond me, however. When I'd woken up my whole body was feeling week and painful, and I had been quite sure that my legs would buckle the moment I'd try to stand on them. In all honesty, it still felt like that.'What_?'_

'This depressive behavior, is it because of my brother?'

No,' I frowned deeply, 'God, no, Adrienne. Why would you think that? And I'm not acting depressed!' While adding the last thing, a part of me realized that I really was.

'Well, if I recall correctly, this all started the day of our lunch date.. If it is because of something I said, if my behavior was really out of line, I apologize. But please, Angèlique, get a hold of yourself.'

'I try, but..' I shut my mouth and stared at my feet. I had almost told her. I had almost told her about the nightmares, that tortured me both day and night, ever since I was a little girl. About the monsters that kept me from sleeping, about the black void that had filled my insides since I got the letter. I wanted to tell her. But I knew I couldn't.

'But, what?'

I shook my head. 'Nothing.. it's nothing.'

'Yes there is, I can see it.' She grabbed my arm. 'Come on, you can tell me. That's what friends are for, right?'

Biting my lip, I considered my options. I could tell her, but I'd surely be put in a mental asylum the moment I'd finish talking. Or I could keep my mouth shut, but by doing so hurting Adrienne's feelings. 'I've been having.. unpleasant dreams.' I said, still gazing at my feet awkwardly.

'Nightmares?'

'Yes, I suppose you could call them that.'

'What are they about?'

I cringed, I knew she'd ask that. The one question I really did not want to answer, couldn't answer. 'I can't exactly explain.. But they keep me up at night and haunt me during the day.'

She nodded understandingly. 'I didn't know, I'm sorry.'

'It's fine, I just… I'm just exhausted and it's consuming me wholly.'

'We should tell _Madame_, I'm sure she'll show some understanding.'

'No, Adrienne, you cannot tell her. Please, promise me you won't tell her.'

For a moment, she looked like she was about to argue. But when she looked me in the eye, I think she saw the urgency behind my plea, because she only nodded. 'Fine.'

I gave her a weak smile, then quickly left her and made my way to the other dancers.

**pagebreak ~**

As I roamed the corridors absent-mindedly, I thought over my conversation with Adrienne earlier that day. It was true, I had been feeling rather low ever since the lunch date with her brother, but I couldn't figure out what the connection between the two was – that is, if there was any at all. Perhaps it was just coincidence..

My legs were aching and my head felt like it was on fire. The throbbing was deafening, but at the same time it also numbed out the rest of the world, which was a good thing. Everyone was so worried about me, but I couldn't imagine why. How absurd it all was, there was absolutely nothing wrong with me!

My vision blurred for a moment. Perhaps it was better to rest for a bit, I thought, but immediately pushed the idea aside. I was perfectly fine. These things would pass, they always did.

A sound made me whirl around. Too fast, because I had to reach for the wall to keep myself from falling. There was nothing, apart from shadows. I frowned, perhaps I was becoming crazy after all. I took a deep breath, as I suddenly noticed I was trembling, and smoothed my hair with my free hand. Calm down, Angèlique, it's nothing. Probably just a gust of wind.

Another sound and I thought I saw something move in the corner of my eye. When I turned my eyes were met with nothing but shadows once more. 'I'm seeing ghosts,' I murmured, shaking my head with a sigh.

Casting a glance out of one of the tall windows, I suddenly noticed I had been gone for longer than I had originally thought. It might be better to go to dinner, before the others would get even more worried.

With my legs still trembling and my head still aching, I pushed myself up from the wall and began my way to the dining hall. Suddenly I felt myself grow uncomfortably warm and a wave of dizziness engulfed me. Shadows clouded my vision and before I could help it, my legs buckled beneath me and I was crashing to the ground. Before my body even hit the wooden floor, I had lost all consciousness once more.


	26. Chapter 26

My eyes were met with nothing but darkness. I frowned. Of course, seeing things would be a lot easier with eyes opened. My eyes fluttered open and I blinked, but again, I was met with an impenetrable darkness. Where was I? I couldn't recall the dormitories ever being so dark, even on a starless, moonless night. There was always a lone lamppost that would cast it's light through one of the high windows, always a light from one of the surrounding buildings that would find its way into the dark corners of the room. But that brought me back to my question, where was I?

I tried to sit up, but soon found my arms unwilling to support me. My head throbbed as it hit the cold stone again. It felt good against the skin on my face that felt like it was burning from the inside, and so I rested my cheek against the surface. For several, painful minutes I remained like that. It could have been days, weeks even, for I did not have any sense of time or space, but I figured I should have seen some sort of light if that much time had passed.

Then, the soft sound of movement caught my attention, and my eyes fluttered open once again. 'Who is there?' I asked in a high voice. 'Hello?' A moment of silence followed and I thought over my chances of running. Those were, I had to admit, not very high, since I didn't have a clue where I was and my body wasn't really cooperating.

'I wouldn't do that if I were you.'

My head snapped to the place the voice had come from, but – as was to be expected – I couldn't make out a thing. My eyes searched the darkness fruitlessly. 'Who are you?'

A cold laugh echoed through the room. 'Forgotten so quickly about me, have you?'

'Phantom,' I gasped, though I was not sure if it was out of fear or surprise.

'Indeed.. Now we're past our round of introduction, I think it best to cut straight to the chase.'

'Yes… sure,' I said, rather bewildered. I still had no clue as to where I was, what I was doing there and how I got there.

'Are you out of your mind?' He demanded, calmly.

'I beg your pardon?'

'I think my question was simple enough for even you to understand.'

I gritted my teeth – very unladylike – and tried to sit up again, once again without much result. 'What is it that you want from me?'

'That you stop killing yourself, for one. The opera simply can't afford to lose another prima ballerina, because of some stupid reason.'

'I'm not killing myself..'

'For your information, _mademoiselle_, the body needs fuel to function, to keep you alive. That means you have to eat.'

'I know that,' I said, rather indignantly. What did he mistake me for, some sort of mentally insane person? 'Could you perhaps put the light on, I prefer talking to someone I can actually see.'

'And I prefer not having to pick up famished young women, but I fear fate cannot be fortunate to all of us. I will bring you back to the dormitories as soon as you're able to walk, from there on you're on your own again. I wish to have nothing to do with anybody's life.'

Again, I found myself feeling different than I should have. Instead of hearing the obvious insult, I heard a deep, heart-wrenching pain in his voice, a loneliness that reached out to my own being and wrapped itself around my heart. I realized, it was not a not _wanting _to have anything to do with anyone, it was a not _being able _to. 'Thank you.'

'Excuse me?'

'I said thank you, for saving me. I don't remember what happened, but I wish to thank you nonetheless. Without you I might have still been lying there. So yes, thank you.'

'It's nothing,' he mumbled, then cleared his throat. 'Can you move?'

'Let me try,' I said, more to myself than to him, and raised my head. A wave of dizziness and nausea immediately overwhelmed me and I let my head drop back on the stone with a loud thump. 'I'm afraid not, _monsieur_.' My eye lids, suddenly feeling terribly heavy, closed for a moment and I breathed in. I was so tired. Couldn't I just… But before I could even finish the thought, I had lost consciousness again.

This time, however, I think I came back to my senses a bit sooner. Opening my eyes, I still found myself in utter darkness, but the air didn't feel as damp as it had done before. A soft rocking of my body kept me half asleep, but I was just enough awake to hear a silent muttering.

'Stupid of me to even.. Should have just left her to die.. Is this what you wanted, fool_?_.. We all know how this will end.. What if I just… She'll probably die soon anyway..'

Through the fog in my mind, I vaguely recognized his voice. Yes, the Phantom. He was with me. He had.. saved me. I frowned. Could that be?

Suddenly, I noted he'd stopped talking. Without realizing, I held my breath. 'Ah _mademoiselle_, I see you're awake again.'

I nodded, but found the motion hindered by something hard against my face. It hit me like lightening. The rocking I'd felt, the hard _thing_ against my face. I was being carried. And not by just anyone. I was being carried by the Phantom of the Opera.

'I suggest you will stay in bed for the next few days, rest and try to eat something. I will inform _madame_ Giry of your well-being.'

Again, I just nodded. In all honesty, I still didn't really understand what was going on. So many questions were filling my head, but I couldn't find the energy to even focus on one in particular. 'Why are you helping me, again?'

He didn't answer, just sped up. Perhaps he was trying to get to the dormitories as fast as possible, so he would be free of me. A sudden wave of embarrassment engulfed me. He was carrying me. I felt my face turn red and asked, more in an attempt to distract myself; 'Where are we?'

'Almost at the dormitories.'

He was right. Before I knew it, he stepped in a pool of moonlight and I found myself in front of the dormitories. I tilted my head, away from his chest towards the door. Bed surely was a nice prospect, but it was the way there I was concerned about. I hadn't been able to lift my head earlier, and as it were, I was being carried around. Exhausted, I rested my head back against his chest.

I think I heard him sigh, before he took the last step to the door and stepped inside. Luckily, judging by the sound of it, all the girls were already vast asleep. Of course that wasn't such a big surprise, as it was probably close to midnight, but it would've been very unfortunate if someone would have seen me in the arms of a man. Of the Phantom, no less.

He maneuvered swiftly and elegantly through the maze of beds, never making a single sound as he did. When we arrived at my bed, he lowered me on the soft matrass and straightened his jacket.

I watched him as he did, his figure illuminated by the bit of moonlight that was cast through the high windows. As I studied him, a strange realization dawned upon me. He didn't scare me anymore. Rather, I found him to be pleasant, almost… comforting.

And therefore, as he turned to made his leave, I reached for his hand and looked up at the visible half of his face. 'How is it that you are the light that keeps away the darkness of my dreams? Please, stay with me.'


	27. Chapter 27

Whether the Phantom really did stay with me that night, I never found out. However, I had slept well for the first in quite some time and my dreams had been filled with music, instead of shadows. But, waking up the next morning, I found myself completely alone in the dormitories. As was to be expected.. Perhaps it had all been a dream. I sighed, well then at least it had been a nicer one than I had had for weeks.

Before I could give the matter any more thoughts, the door opened and a blond head peaked through the opening. 'Ah you're finally awake!'

I tried to smile, but only managed to pull up one corner of my mouth. I'm sure I must have looked miserable, as she frowned deeply at the sight of me.

'_Maman_ asked me to check up on you. Here, I brought you some broth, can you sit up?'

'I'm afraid not,' I said in a whisper. Apparently my health had only worsened. I suddenly recalled something I had heard. Or was it something I dreamed? I couldn't really tell anymore, as my mind was foggy and full of holes and black spaces. Yet, I could remember this vividly, could still hear his voice in my mind. _She'll probably die soon anyway.. _I shuddered. Could such a thing really happen?

'Angèlique? Angèlique, are you still with me?'

I opened my eyes again, bewildered, and stared at her face. 'Yes, sorry..'

'It's quite alright,' Meg said and carefully pulled me into a sitting position. 'Alright, now open your mouth a bit, so I can feed you the broth.'

I hated to be so dependent of people, to have them take care of me. However, I didn't have much choice because, as it was, I would probably die soon indeed if I didn't get help.

As the first spoon of broth hit my empty stomach, I could feel myself becoming sick immediately. My body tensed up and for a moment, I was convinced it would come right out again. It didn't, though, and when the sickness had lessened, it felt good to have something warm inside of me.

'Alright, I will leave you again now, it's best for you to get some rest.'

'Thank you..'

Meg nodded and stood from my bedside. 'I'll check up on you later today.' And with that, she turned on her heel and left for the door. As I watched her, I suddenly remembered the first time I'd seen her. She truly was the most graceful girl I'd ever seen. Well, perhaps she found her equal in her mother. Yes, a little blonde angel she most certainly was.

I closed my eyes. Though having been quite short, the visit had exhausted me greatly and I longed to drift off in dreams once more. Dreams of melodies, of words of sweetness, love and solitude. Dreams of a voice that had bewitched my body and soul.

**pagebreak ~**

'Angèlique? Are you awake?'

'Hmmmm?'

'Ah, good. I came to bring you dinner. Meg wanted to do it herself, but then _madame_ Giry called for her, because she needed some help with…-'

From thereon I didn't even trouble myself anymore with the effort of trying to follow what was going on. I slowly opened my eyes and let out a soft grunt when I found that my head was hurting terribly.

'Are you alright?'

'Yes,' I creaked, my throat being dry from the lack of water. 'I'm quite alright.' It was only now that I recognized the girl beside my bed. The red curly hair, the lily skin. How could I have missed it?

She helped me sit up once more and then caringly tucked me in. 'Perfect!Now let's see what is for dinner tonight. Hmmm, well I hope you like tomato soup. It was all there was left when I came in the kitchen. I must admit I was rather late, but that was because I first had to work myself out of that blasted costume. If only I'd known the show would be canceled, I wouldn't have taken the effort of squeezing myself into it in the first place. Honestly, if…-'

'What?' I asked, almost spewing out the spoon full of tomato soup she had just fed me.

'Haven't you heard? Oh of course you haven't, silly me, how could you have. _Madame_ has explicitly told us not to go to the dormitories, as to not to disturb you. Anyways, what was I saying again? Oh yes, I remember, the show. Well, honestly nobody really knows what happened. Clémence… the Dampierre girl, you know, she just stormed off in the middle of practice and she left the Opera. It was total chaos, because there is no understudy and apparently she refuses to come back.'

'Why?'

Adrienne shrugged. 'I don't know for sure. Some say it has something to do with the Phantom, but I don't know what to believe. Perhaps it has, but well.. we all know Clémence. For all we know she simply broke a nail.'

I simply nodded. Somehow, I wasn't so convinced as I would have been a few weeks ago anymore. Theories starring the infamous Phantom weren't that impossible and unlikely anymore now I had, in fact, seen and spoken to him multiple times.

'Are you alright? Have I exhausted you too much? I am really sorry, I will leave you to get some rest. Here, I'll leave this here, in case you get hungry.' Placing the bowl carefully on my night stand, she jumped up and, after one last caring gaze, left the room.

I let my head fall back into the soft pillow. What could have made the prima donna take a leave? Could it really have been the Opera Ghost? Or were it perhaps more earthly matters? I sighed. Whatever it had been, it had come in quite handy, as I wouldn't miss any shows this way and therefore perhaps wouldn't be replaced as lead dancer.

Thinking about him still caused me trouble, I noticed. I couldn't tell what was real and what not anymore if he was involved. Dreams, reality, the border between them was blurred and I couldn't trust my own mind anymore. I shuddered. For all I knew, the recollections I had of the Phantom were mere figments of my imagination.

I know what I've seen, another part of my brain argued. But as far as I was aware, I was the only one who had actually seen him. What evidence of him did I have? The rose! My eyes fluttered open again and I gazed at my nightstand. It should be in the upper drawer.

With great effort, I managed to tilt my head a little and stared at the wooden piece of furniture. It was only about twelve inch away from me. I sighed. It was only twelve inch away from me and yet there was no way I could reach for it without any help. Oh how dreadful the situation was! For a moment or so, I closed my eyes. Being awake, pondering and musing, it all asked more of me than it normally would – more than I could miss. Fog was taking over my mind again and before I knew it, I was lost in a dream again, with music filling in my ears, my heart and my soul.


	28. Chapter 28

I must have dozed off, I thought, as I opened my eyes and blinked against the bright sunlight. I couldn't remember falling asleep the night before. I had been in bed for five days now and I was finally starting to recover. Although I was still not allowed to leave my bed, I could sit up now without any help and the day before I had even managed to read half a chapter of Alice in Wonderland.

Spending my days in bed was boring me quite a lot, but luckily there always seemed to be someone willing to accompany me in the long hours of boredom. Even Pierre, the cook, had visited to bring me some of his famous pumpkin soup. ("If this won't get you on your feet again, I don't know what will.") However, in the long hours of rest and peace, I found myself still pondering over certain things that refused to leave my mind. The Phantom, for one, seemed to be a large part of it. Had it been a dream? One time, when I woke in the middle of the night, I had seen something disappear in the shadows. I had been sure it was a man. But in the morning, with the sun illuminating every dark corner and chasing all the shadows away, it was hard to believe that it really had been.

In the meanwhile, my dreams had begun to follow a certain routine. There would be a lake, illuminated by a thousand candles in golden chandeliers. And there was a boat, no_, _more like a gondola, that would take me across the still water. All around me was darkness and yet, it was a soothing, warming dark. Music seemed to envelop me and a mesmerizing, angelic voice would fill me with an unknown, but at the same time strangely familiar delight.

I shook my head. Here I was, musing about my dreams once more. As if it would do any good. A sudden shiver reminded me of the blanket that I had thrown off somewhere around midnight and I quickly wrapped it around my still very fragile form. I had never been a girl with much curves, and though I was slowly gaining back my old figure again, I was still more bone than flesh.

'Good day!' A gay voice sounded from the doorway.

'Oh, hello Anne!' I said, happy to have some distraction from my ponderings for a few moments.

'How are you feeling today, dear?'

'I'm well, slowly starting to feel better, actually. Shouldn't you be at ballet class?'

'It's Sunday, dear, all the girls have gone home today. I was actually going to go to town for presents with Adrienne, Meg, Marie-Claire and Veronique, but I decided to stop by you first, in case you needed anything.'

I shook my head. 'No, thank you, I'm fine.'

'Alright, well, make sure you keep yourself warm, it's getting quite chill outside and we wouldn't want you to catch a cold, now.' As a real mother, she tucked me in and gave me a kiss on the top of my head. 'Get well soon!'

After Anne had left, I let my eyes rest for a bit. I really envied the girls that could go home right now, even the ones that could just wander about freely, instead of being chained to their beds for five days. I missed mother. I could vividly remember how she would always bring me her home made soup if I was ill. She would sit on my bed, softly humming the song from the music box. No matter how troubled or ill I'd be, her voice would always calm me down. And _papa_, when he'd come home at the end of the day, would always come straight to my room, to ask how I was doing. He'd sit by me the entire evening, telling me stories of mystery and magic, of foreign  
>countries and cultures. And if I'd finally fall asleep, he'd call me his little princess<em>,<em> press a kiss on my forehead and tiptoe out of the room.

I sighed, I wondered when I'd see them again. Hopefully soon, but I didn't count on it. My father couldn't simply close the shop to come over, especially not at this time of the year. In the winter, there were always loads of orders of refined, rich women who needed warm cloaks and beautiful dresses for Christmas. I recalled the numerous hours he'd spend in the evenings at home, trying to get all of his orders finished in time.

Shaking my head, I sat up in bed. Pulling the blanket closer around me again, I decided it might be good for me to take a short walk through the opera. Sitting still all day long made me restless and I longed to stretch my legs, even if it was just for a while. There'd probably not be anyone in the Opera, so this was the perfect opportunity to get out of bed. I wouldn't even have to care about my appearance, as the only ones I was likely to encounter were the spiders in their cobwebs.

**pagebreak ~**

As I shambled through the corridors, every once in a while taking a moment to regain my breath, I came to the conclusion I was right; everyone was out today. Either home to their families, or out buying Christmas presents with friends, but in any case; all the inhabitants of the Opera Populaire seemed to be gone. All but one.

For some reason I just couldn't get him out of my head. My savior – if those happenings really did occur – who dwelled in shadows and in my mind. The mystery surrounding him, made him even more captivating.

I nearly collapsed, but managed to get hold of the wall just in time before I crashed to the floor. Perhaps the walk had taken a higher toll of me than I had thought. Touching my forehead, I felt a unhealthy, burning heat emerge from it. I'd figured the fever would have lessened by now, but apparently I'd been wrong.

Looking around me, I spotted a door ajar and decided to go inside, hoping there would be a couch or something of the sort to rest for a bit. I stumbled towards the room and, to my utter relief, found it to be a storage room for stage clothing. There were dozens of racks, filled to the brim with dresses, suits, helmets and ribbons of all shades and colors and somewhere in the middle, a small beige sofa was placed, as a place for the seamstress to work. That would do, I decided and as darkness slowly began clouding my view, made my way to the couch.

'No! I will not let you bribe me again with those pretty words and flattery. I simply refuse!'

'Please _mademoiselle_, if you'd just follow us to the office we could..-'

'No, I don't want to hear any of it!I've had enough. Attacks, threats, violation of my privacy! For too long I've taken this, but no more. You call yourself managers, I'd rather say you are just his puppets, dancing to his every demand. It's time for you to find yourself a new leading lady, because I will be singing in this Opera no more!'

_'Mademoiselle_, there must be something we can do?'

'There is not!'

'And what about some financial arrangements?'

'Until you stop this this… this psychopath, I will not set another foot in this theatre, no matter how much money you offer me!'

'But _mademoiselle_!' The two men, who I now was fairly certain of were the two managers, continued to beg the prima donna for quite some time, but eventually their voices died out as well and I was once again left alone in silence.

Memories came flooding back to me and I recalled again how I'd crashed down on the sofa. I wondered what the time would be and hoped with all my heart that the other ballerinas would not have returned from their day off yet. The girls would probably be worried sick if they found my bed empty.

When I made my way through the corridors, I noticed it was already getting dark outside. I'd better hurry up, if I wanted to be back in the dormitories before the others. Still, I could only move on a slow pace, as my health and the burning fever exhausted me greatly. I truly hoped that I would recover soon.

Upon finally arriving at the dormitory, I came to the relieving conclusion that it was still completely empty. Or was it? I blinked at a movement in the corner of my eye, but found nothing of interest on a closer perspective. Probably just figments of my imagination, I thought and got back in bed. Or maybe I was still half sleeping and my dreams somehow blended with reality. I yawned and l laid my head down on the cushion. That would explain why the Phantom of the Opera was standing beside my bed, placing a rose on my nightstand and after that completely vanishing into nothing. Yes, that would definitely explain a lot.


	29. Chapter 29

'Are you sure of this?'

I nodded in confirmation.

'I just can't believe it, no more Clémence.. What would that mean for life at the Opera House?' Anne mused and stared of in the distance. It was Monday evening and I had finally found the time to tell my friends about the conversation I had overheard. The three of them were now all gathered around my bed side – as I was still not allowed to leave my bed, unless necessary. Judging from the look on their faces, they shared my feelings of happiness and curiosity. What could the Phantom have done to scare her off so immensely?

'Something good, that's for sure!' The little redhead chimed and a smile spread across her lips. 'It surely can't get any worse than Clémence. Perhaps they'll find a woman that is bearable. Perhaps we can even become friends!'

I thought about that. It would surely be a relief to be rid of the insufferable diva – I couldn't even say a kind word about her if I tried. Although I always tried to see the good in others, this woman was simply detestable! 'Well, I sure hope for the managers that they'll find someone soon, they can't postpone the performances forever.'

'They cannot, indeed. I wonder when they'll tell us about her resignation.' Anne said thoughtfully.

Meg had been fairly silent for the entire duration of the conversation, ever since I brought up the subject of the prima donna. Perhaps it was because I mentioned the Opera Ghost. It obviously still was a painful subject to her. 'I just can't imagine why _maman_ wouldn't have told me..'

'I'm sure she was just busy with preparing us for the show and didn't want to upset you, dear. If she thought it would've been of any relevance, she would have told you.' Anne tried to calm her.

Meg shook her head, but didn't say anything.

'Well, I think it's best if you will get some dinner now, I've kept you from it long enough and I don't want you to miss it,' I said laughing nervously, trying to break the sudden tense atmosphere.

**pagebreak ~**

That night I dreamt about nothing but melodies, lullabies and whispered words of sweetness, just like I had done the last few days. However, something had changed. There was a certain tension in the dream that I could not name. It was audible in the music, in the feelings it stirred within me. I woke up with a start and sat up in bed, heavily panting. I opened my eyes just in time to see a movement in the corner of my eye. For a moment, I thought it was just my imagination playing tricks on me, but then I was sure that I'd seen something.

With my curiosity sparked, I threw off the covers and swiftly maneuvered my way to the door. I thought I saw something at the end of the corridor and decided to follow it.  
>For several hallways, I pursued any small flickering, any sound until I stood silent. There was nothing anymore. Whatever it was that I had seen, it was now gone. I sighed and shivered. I hadn't noticed how cold my feet were until that very moment. Perhaps I should have put something on my feet, I mused, as it was becoming colder and colder outside. 'Damn it,' I whispered, as I shifted from one foot onto the other, watching them slowly becoming purple in the pool of moonlight I stood in.<p>

'I don't believe those are words a young lady of proper breading should know the meaning of, _mademoiselle_.'

I startled. '_Monsieur_, you surprised me. I didn't expect to meet anyone here.'

'And yet you are here, in the middle of the night?'

'I thought I'd heard something, but it must have been my mind playing games with me,' I admitted, rather ashamed.

'Tell me, why are you up in the at this hour?'

'I don't know_, monsieur_. I suppose I just… well, never mind that.'

'What was that, _mademoiselle_?'

'Nothing.' I sighed. 'Nothing that could be said without making me doubt my own sanity.' What was I really doing out here? I wondered. Then another question arose in the back of my mind. 'But what are you doing here, if I may be so bold to ask?'

'I'm the Phantom of the Opera, _mademoiselle_, I run this theatre. Contrary of what those managers make it look like, I actually have things to do.'

A memory popped up in the back of my mind and I frowned in confusion. 'The rose I found this morning, you dropped it there, didn't you?' I waited for a moment, but when there came no answer, I continued my musings. 'Yes, it was you, I know it was. I saw you. Yesterday evening, I thought I had been dreaming, but I couldn't be, because I found the rose still on my nightstand the next morning…'

'I merely came to check if you got back to your bed.'

'Then you must have overheard the conversation between _mademoiselle_ Dampierre and the managers as well,' I concluded, talking to no direction in particular. It would surely be a lot more easier if I knew where he was.

'Yes, it seemed our leading lady had some trouble with a certain man..'

I tried to keep off the smile that was creeping its way up my lips. 'So it seemed.'

'I think it is time for you to go back to bed now, _mademoiselle_, as performances cannot be postponed forever and you need to be in full health again, would you wish to be prima ballerina once more.'

I thought I heard a double meaning in his words, but decided to let it be. After all, he was the Opera Ghost, if it was he who kept off the performances, he must have had some other goal for it than simply helping me. 'That might be a good idea, indeed.'

'Until we meet again then.'

'So, that means we will?'

'What was that_, mademoiselle?_'

I felt my cheeks become warm. 'That we'll meet again.'

'If you wish so.'

'I do, _monsieur_. Very much, indeed.'

'Why?' He suddenly growled in my left ear. 'Why would you want to meet? To rip off my mask? To finally be able to play out your dreams in real life?'

I swirled around, looking straight in two glowing yellow orbs, that seemed to burn with the fires of hell itself. Swallowing, it took me all the power I possessed not to run. 'No_, monsieur_. I swear.. I.. Believe me, that was never my intention. I just…' I fidgeted with my hands 'somehow, discussing that book with you back in box one was one of the most pleasant conversations I've had ever since I arrived at the Opera. The most pleasant, in fact..'

'So you wish discuss literature with me, the Opera Ghost?'

'Or poetry, music, I do not care. All I know is that I want your company, if that is not too much to ask.'

'You want.. my company? You earnestly want to spend your time, which you could share with your friends, with that suitor, what's his name again, or with anyone at all, with _me_?'

Yes..' I said, suddenly doubting myself. Was I saying such an odd thing? 'If you don't want to, or are too busy that's alright. I mean, I would completely understand and it would be no offend. But if you are able and willing, then yes, I'd very much like to have your company.'

**The Phantom's point of view**

He could hardly believe it. No, never mind that. He simply couldn't. This young woman, this _girl,_ could it really be that she was asking for his company? No one had ever done so before. No one. Even when _she_ knew him solely as her Angel of Music, _she_ didn't. And yet, here this girl was, standing in her white nightgown, on her bare feet, shivering from the cold, asking for it.

Was she lying? She must be, one of the voices argued. She looked perfectly sincere, though. All women do, the voice said again, so did your Angel and where did that bring you? Do you want to let that happen again? She will simply use you and eventually, when she doesn't need you anymore, she'll expose you to the world, show them the freak you really are.

'_Monsieur_?'

Suddenly, he became aware of his surroundings again. There she was, still waiting for his answer. Her face seemed to drop more and more with each passing second in which he didn't answer. Could it be she really wanted to be in his company?

'I'm so sorry. I shouldn't even have asked, it was foolish and stupid and just forget I even mentioned it,' she babbled, while her cheeks changed from the orange red they had already turned in the course of our conversation to a deep, crimson red.

'No _mademoiselle_, I would be obliged to be in your company. But please, let me now accompany you back to the dormitories, before you become even more ill.'

She nodded and even thankfully accepted his coat when he offered it to her. And so, he in is formal evening attire and her in the white nightgown with the black coat over her shoulders, they made their way back to the dorms. Only now the Phantom noticed how small she indeed was, compared to himself. He remembered how she had pointed that out, that day in box one, and how he had almost reached for his Punjab when she had looked at him the way she'd done.

He coughed. 'Well, _mademoiselle_, I think it's time we part ways. I wish you a good night.'

'I wish you the same, _monsieur_.' She turned but then suddenly stood still again. 'Do you still play music, _monsieur_?'

'Not much anymore, I am afraid. Mostly at night, when I have nothing else to occupy myself with. Why do you ask?'

A spark of realization lit up her grey eyes for a moment, but then she simply smiled. 'Oh, I just wondered. Well, good night, then.' And with that, she slipped through the door and out of his sight.

For a moment, he pondered whether he would sneak into one of the secret passageways, that would lead into the walls of the dormitories, to see if she had been genuine, but for some reason he didn't.

He _wanted _to believe she was genuine. He needed some form of human contact so badly, that he felt like he would die if he deprived himself of it any longer. He knew it was stupid to even try to believe it could be different this time, but he simply couldn't live his life anymore like this, without going completely mad. All would be well if he'd just keep her at a safe distance, he tried to convince himself. Perhaps, perhaps then his life would finally change for the better.


	30. Chapter 30

Had it been wrong to ask? I asked myself. Without a doubt! It was wrong in every possible meaning of the word. And yet.. There was something about him I wasn't quite ready to be parted from. A strange recognition I could not place. I shook my head and looked at the ballerinas that swirled, leaped, floated and glided across the stage. Because I refused to stay in bed another day, _madame_ Giry had teeth grindingly accepted my proposal to come to practice, if only I'd remain seated the entire time and would solely practice the new routine in my head. I had, also teeth grindingly, agreed to this.

Adrienne had told me her brother, Christophe, had inquired after my health multiple times last week, but wasn't allowed to visit me. Apparently, _madame_ Giry had forbid him, due to some obvious health objections on my part. I didn't really know whether to feel sad or rejoiced about that fact. Because yes, I thought very high of _monsieur_ Rousseau and looked upon him as one of the most amiable of men I had had the pleasure of meeting. However, he was still nothing more than Adrienne's brother and, perhaps, an acquaintance. It was very nice of him to come all the way to the Opera house, just for me, but it also left me feeling slightly uncomfortable and awkward.

Absent-mindedly, I saw how one of the ballerinas lost her balance during a spin and landed with a loud thud on the wooden floor. However, before she'd had even time to rub her hand over the sensitive spot on her buttocks, she was softly, but sternly stricken by the dance instructor's cane and she quickly scrambled to her feet. Because of her stern, conserved manner of teaching, _madame_ Giry wasn't liked among all of the ballet rats. Especially the younger ones, who were used to being allowed to do everything they wanted at home, had a difficult time adjusting to the ballet teacher and sometimes even held fear for the proud woman and her cane. I myself, couldn't help but feel strong admiration towards her. Not only was she the only powerful woman in the opera staff, but she had also singlehandedly raised Meg and at the same time provided a comfortable living for the two of them.

**pagebreak ~**

I spent the rest of the day in this manner. Sitting, musing and from time to time getting so lost in my thoughts, that I didn't even notice when someone asked me something. In the evening I wrote, for the first time in what had seemed ages, a letter to my parents, apologizing for not having written for so long and dutifully promising I would write again very soon. At the end, I discretely added the wish for them to come and attend a performance, although I already knew they wouldn't.

My parents loved me and my siblings more than anything in the world, they did, but they were village people. They enjoyed living in the countryside, where society was small and everyone knew everyone. They were born among farmers, tailors, bakers and butchers and had no desire of ever leaving that place. The city of Paris was simply too big for them and they wouldn't be able to manage themselves out here. Without a doubt they would be lost within several hours and would feel uncomfortable between all those high placed people. No, in the end it would be better for both them and me if they'd stay at home, no matter how much I missed them.

I put down my quill and, after having reread it, placed the letter in an envelope with the address and names on it. I'd have to ask one of the girls to bring it for me to the post office tomorrow, as I was sure _madame_ Giry still wouldn't want me to go outside.

It was at that moment that Adrienne came running into the dining hall, where I was seated at one of the wooden tables, waving with a piece of paper in her hand. It was only when she came closer that I could identify it as a letter.

'I just received a letter that I think might interest you,' she said, winking at me.

'Alright.. Who's it from?'

'Oh how naïve you are, my dear Angèlique. It's from my brother of course! Now, if you'll be silent for a moment I will read the particular section to you, for the rest is generally small talk. I do believe his only motive for writing was to inquire after you. Alas, let me read it to you before my thoughts run away with me.' She cleared her throat. '..with Isabelle. Please give my best to your friend Angèlique, I do hope it is nothing serious she suffers from. Although it must be, since I wasn't allowed to pay her a visit when I was in town a few days ago. In any case_, _please tell her that I hope she'll be in good health next time we meet and that I hope this illness will not deter her from coming along with Christmas…' She looked up from the letter, gazing at me with a smug smile. 'So what have you to say on _that_?'

'Your brother is very attentive. Please thank him for his kindness when you send a reply.'

'Is that all?' She cried out, throwing her hands in the air in a manner of disbelief and indignation.

I blushed. 'Well, what else do you want me to say?'

She had to think about that for a moment. 'Why, I don't know. I just assumed you would say a little more than well.. _this_.'

Then I'm terribly sorry, dear Adrienne, but actually,' I stretched myself at that moment 'it's quite late and it has been a long day for me. So if you don't mind, I will retreat to my bed now. Good night, dear_._' With that, I rose from the wooden bench and brushed passed her. Of course, it took her only seconds to run up to me and walk with me back to the dorms - exactly as I had expected her to. We chatted about nothing in particular – or rather; it was Adrienne who was doing the chatting, I was mostly just listening and occasionally nodding.

When we arrived at the dormitories, I immediately made my way to my bed and covered myself with the heavy, warm blankets and sighed in a happy manner. I let my eyes wander to the room as I made myself comfortable between the sheets.

Suddenly, I noticed something I hadn't seen when I came in. Meg's bed was empty. I frowned, but remained in bed. Perhaps she'd just gone to the bathroom. However, for some reason I didn't really believe that and, when I had waited for over ten minutes and she still was nowhere to be seen, I kicked of my blankets and quietly tiptoed to the door. When I passed Adrienne's bed, I noticed the little redhead was already vast asleep.

I had noticed Meg becoming quieter and quieter in the last few weeks and I didn't like it in the least. Something big was bothering her, that much was clear. All I hoped was that I would be able to help her, if only a little.

Once again on my bare feet, I roamed through the empty corridors. I thought of the possibility of her being on the roof, as I had found her there before. I could only pray I would not find her in a similar state, although all reason in me told me not to hope too much.

When I finally reached the door I found it, not very surprisingly, open and quickly made my way up the stairs to the other door. The hinges were obviously suffering from the cold weather, as this one didn't open as easy as the other. As a gust of freezing wind blew against my bare ankles, I suddenly recalled it was already winter. It had been quite some time since I'd last been outside and I noticed now that the first snow was starting to fall and forming a thin layer on the roof. The great statues, too, began to look like snow figures in the dark night.

Because of the snow, I almost didn't notice her. In fact, if it hadn't been for the sound of a soft weeping that was carried by the wind to where I stood, I probably wouldn't have at all. However, I did, and so I made my way across the roof towards the huddled figure. She had covered her body with a blanket and watched me as I approached her.

'You shouldn't be out of bed,' she simply stated, as I stopped at her side.

'Well, neither should you, I believe.'

She simply shrugged her shoulders, but then looked off in the distance again.

'Meg, why are you here?'

'I could ask you the same question,' she countered, but didn't look at me.

'I'm here because I was worried. I'm here because a friend of mine is feeling awful and I don't want to stand by and do nothing about it.' I swallowed and softened my tone. 'Meg, please, tell me what's bothering you_.._'

'It's nothing.'

'Nothing did not bring you to the roof when it's snowing.' I sighed, and continued softly. 'Come, let us go in. You'll catch a cold out here,' I didn't like the way she sat there on the edge, her legs dangling into nothingness and her gaze fixed on something I could not see.

'Angèlique.. parents are supposed to love and care for you aren't they?'

'Yes... why?'

'And aren't they supposed to do what's best for their children? To be honest to them and never, ever lie to them?'

'What are you trying to say, Meg?'

'She knew.' It had barely been a whisper, something that might as well have been the wind, if I didn't know any better, but somehow it made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. I was about to ask her what she meant, when she spoke again, softly, broken. 'She knew all this time and did nothing.'

'Meg, I…-'

'She knew!' She screamed out, her voice echoing over the rooftops while the tears streamed down her face. For a moment, her visage held an angry, powerful expression, but then it faded back into the empty, emotionless mask it had been the past time.

Uneasy and unsure of what to do, I lowered myself beside her and pulled her into my arms. While stroking her back I tried soothing her with soft words. After a while, the crying faded and changed into a silent sobbing, in which only once in a time a few words could be made out.

'She knew..' Meg whispered, while her tears soaked my night gown. 'She lied to me… She knew.' It was heartbreaking to see my dear friend, whom I had seen from day one as one of the strongest women I knew, broken down like this and in every aspect a little girl again. Her blonde hair was ruffled and her face puffy, but still there was a hidden power lingering between the surface, which assured me that she'd be alright in time.

'Dear, do you want to tell me?_'_

_'Maman_, she knew everything. She knew he existed, that he was after her. She…' She paused for a moment and tried to calm herself before she'd burst out in hysterical crying once more. 'She knew all this and did nothing.' It was obvious what she was talking about, but I couldn't believe it. It couldn't be. _Madame_ Giry couldn't have known about his obsession of the young ballerina and have done nothing. She practically raised the girl!

'How can you be sure of this? I mean, you know how few rumors here are actually tr…-' I tried, but she snorted.

'Christine told me herself. Apparently, Raoul had found out the day she was abducted. I can't believe I was so stupid, that I..-' She broke down in tears again and I pulled her closer.

'No, Meg, you weren't stupid. It's only natural that you believed her. Don't blame this on yourself, dear.'

'I don't blame myself, I blame her. The terrible fate that has befallen Christine, that has befallen the Opera and all of its visitors and inhabitants, it could have been prevented. If not for her stupidity, the entire catastrophe would have never happened.'

'Now now, dear, don't be too hard on your mother. I know it's difficult to see, but I'm sure she had her reasons for doing so.'

'She could have at least told me!'

'She could have,' I argued 'But perhaps she was only trying to protect you..'

'I do not need to be protected!'

'That's just the way mothers are, dear. No matter if you need to be protected or not, they'll try anyway. Come on, it's time for you to go to bed and sleep. Tomorrow all will be better.' And with that, I pulled her up and, with my arms still wrapped around her, we left the roof. Although I had tried to console Meg with comforting words, that did not mean that my own curiosity wasn't sparked by this new information. And more so, I was determined to find out how much of it was actually true.


	31. Chapter 31

The next weeks passed by in a bit of a haze. I finally was allowed to dance and so my days had started getting more excited and fun again. Meg also seemed to be doing better and better. Although she was still a bit quiet and sequestered, she looked less pained and zoned-out than she had done before.

Things were actually almost getting back to how they used to be. I danced, I ate, I laughed and I slept. The only difference there was, was in my dreams. They were still filled with the strange, but mesmerizing music that I had started hearing the day after I had asked – I refused to think of it as begging – the Opera Ghost to be my friend. I hadn't heard of him ever since, though, something that bothered me greatly. The doubts I had had before had intensified so much, that they swarmed through my head for the entire length of the day.

It was on a Sunday, when I was about to go with Adrienne, Anne, Veronique and Marie-Claire into town (the first in such a long time!), when the letter arrived. Marie and I came back to the dormitory after breakfast to fetch our cloaks, when my eye caught the look of it. At first I thought it was just a letter from my parents, perhaps to tell me how my sister's birthday had been, or to tell me my father had caught a cold. But that was when I noticed the only script was my name. In red ink. I swallowed.

'What's that, Angèlique?' Marie-Claire appeared beside me, but I quickly hid the letter behind my back.

'Oh it's nothing, just a letter from my parents. But I suddenly remembered that I have to do something.. A letter. I have to write a letter to them.. Because my sister. You see, her birthday was yesterday and I completely forgot about it. So I have to write her now, otherwise she'll be very disappointed.' In reality, I had added my birthday wishes in my last letter to them, but it was all I could come up with for the moment.

'I'm sure she wouldn't mind if you'll write her tonight. Come on, you haven't been out for so long, it would be good for you to get a bit of fresh air.'

'No, really, it's best if I write her right away. Perhaps I'll join you at noon in "_Al rive de Seine", _alright?'

'Hmmm, very well. I guess, we'll see you later then.' And with that she turned and left the room.

As soon as I was sure she wouldn't be coming back, I swiftly broke the red skull seal at the back and pulled the letter from the envelop.

The letter itself also only contained a short message. "Meet me at box five."It didn't say who sent it, but that wasn't necessary. I already knew. However, I couldn't tell whether I was feeling relief or happiness at the receiving of a letter from him. Perhaps a bit of both, I mused. I shook my head, I shouldn't tarry. For all I knew he had already been waiting for me for a long time. As fast as I could, I adjusted my dresses and rushed to the mirror to brush my hair and put it in a braid, before I hurried down the corridors towards box five.

Before the door I came to a halt. For the second time I smoothed out my skirts and then softly knocked on the door. A few, long moments I waited, but when no response was given, I turned the door knob and was about to go in when a voice called me back.

_'Mademoiselle_ Fournier?'

I turned on my heel and tried to look nonchalant. 'Yes_, madame_ Giry?'

'Shouldn't you be going to town like the rest of the girls? I'd think you would want to get out of this Opera House after so many weeks of resting.'

'I did, but I forgot something..'

'In one of the boxes?'

'I.. well… I couldn't find it in the dormitories, so I thought that maybe the younger girls had hidden it somewhere.'

'Hmmm, well I can assure you that none of the girls ever comes here. In fact, nobody does. Since the big fire and what happened, everyone avoids this box. Anyway, what did you say it was you had forgotten?'

'My eh.. I forgot my… book. I borrowed Alice in Wonderlandfrom the library here and completely forgot I had promised to bring it back today.'

'I see.. Now, I'm sure you will not find it here, but perhaps you will find it in the dining hall. The younger girls always forget their stuff in there. Come, let me walk with you, I was on my way to Pierre anyway.' She placed her hand on my back and, without giving me even a second to protest, pulled me along with her.

**pagebreak ~**

When I finally managed to get rid of her, I almost literally ran back to the boxes and threw the door open. Empty. Of course. It was foolish of me to think he would actually wait that long for me. I sighed and leaned my head against the door post. 'Fool,' I muttered to myself 'If you had just…' But I didn't finish the sentence. Instead, I slumped down into the red chair and rested my head in my hands. If I had just what? I couldn't have just told her she would need to hurry up, because I was going to meet the Phantom of the Opera.

'So you decided to show up after all?'

I looked up, but was met with nothing but the same empty box as when I came in. I sighed, both relieved he hadn't gone away as on my guard because of the hostile tone of voice he'd used. 'Yes, I well.. I was here earlier, but then _madame_ Giry showed up and…-'

'You told Giry?!'

'No, no,_ monsieur!_ I mean, she just showed up and I obviously couldn't just tell her I was here to meet you, so I went along with her to the dining area.'

'Very well then. So what did you have in mind for these little assemblies? Sitting down with a nice cup of tea perhaps? Discussing the weather?' He smirked.

'You know, you don't have to be so gruff to me all the time. I have not once offended you or been unkind.' I stuck my chin in the air, trying to look resolute, but on the inside I already regretted my words.

'If I remember correctly, it was you who wanted _my_ company, not the other way around. This is who I am and it is not to your liking, I suggest you'll take your leave. It's not like I don't have anything better to do, child.'

'I am not a child!' I replied curtly, suddenly upset with him because he always spoke to me in this derogatory way.

'And I don't think you realize I could snap your neck any minute, without thinking twice about it.' A voice snarled in my ear and suddenly I felt fingers wrap themselves around my neck, lift me up and push me against the wall. 'Do you understand.'

'I understand_,_' I managed to utter.

All of the sudden, voice beneath us in the auditorium caught our attention and he let go of me, causing me to fall to the floor. I muttered a soft curse under my breath, but then quickly scrambled to my feet and went to stand beside him at the ledge.

On the stage had now gathered a small group of people. Two of them were the managers – of which I had recently learned their names were Laroche and Bertrand – and the third man was monsieur Lambert, the conductor. The fourth person, a woman, however, I did not know who she was. She had a light skin and a very bright color of hair.

'It can't be…' The phantom whispered, but before I could ask him what he meant, one of the managers spoke.

'As you can see, _mademoiselle_, the Opera has been fully restored to her former glory. But all we need now is a star to shine in our pieces. And since we've heard so much of your greatness, your superiority, we knew only you would do.'

The woman stuck her chin in the air proudly and said with a thick accent 'Yes, well, that may be so, but I have sworn that I would never sing in another of this house's operas after what happened!' The way she spoke, it sounded like every word existed of at least two more syllables than it actually did.

'We fully understand, _mademoiselle_, but we beg of you, consider our offer. The public needs you.'

'And we need you too,' the other manager added.

'I must go, directly. There are matters that need to be taken care of, before anything is agreed upon.' With that, the Phantom turned on his heel and made way to God knows where to.

'Hold on! I don't understand. What's going on? Who is she?'

'La Carlotta is back.'

** ~**

**I am sorry, I couldn't help myself but put in that little reference to the song in the 2004 movie.  
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	32. Chapter 32

I had not told any of the others about my finding concerning the new prima donna, simply for the reason that I hadn't found the right moment to do so. Of course my first choice was to go to the little restaurant where I had told Marie-Claire I'd meet them. However, when I had made my way back to the dormitories, had gotten my cloak and was ready to go, it was already two o'clock in the afternoon and I knew it would be of no use. Therefore, I decided it would be best to tell them at dinner, but that plan, too, failed, due to exciting news from Marie.

We had sat on the far end of the table and had all been leaning in close to not miss a word of what she was saying. Apparently, this wasn't just some gossip or an elaborate description of the dresses she had bought.

'There is something I must tell you, something I couldn't up until now.' She smiled broadly and bit her lip in excitement.

'Alright_, _so what is it?' Anne asked eagerly.

'Well, a few months ago I met the most agreeable, most fine man. His name is Louis Lemoine and last Sunday, when we were taking a stroll in the park and then.. Oh, my dear friends_, _he asked me for my hand!'

An array of congratulations sounded and we all hugged her one by one. It was wonderful news and I was honestly surprised that she had been able to keep something like this a secret for so long, without even telling Véronique.

'So, what's his estate? Is it big? Does he own much land?' Adrienne, ever materialistic, wanted to know.

'I.. Ehm well..' The blonde turned red and shifted her gaze towards the plate in front of her. 'He is a baker.'

'A baker, how can you even…-' Adrienne began, but soon she was interrupted by Meg.

'That's amazing, Marie, I really am so glad for you.'

'Yes it's absolutely fantastic!' I agreed earnestly.

'But does this mean you will leave us?' For the second time since I had been at the Opera House, I was astonished to hear a sound come from Véronique.

Her best friend looked down again, looking both guiltily and sad. 'I'm afraid so. I'll have all sort of other things to do after I get married, I guess.. But don't worry, I'll come and visit you any time and we can go shopping together in town and on Sunday you can come and visit me as well!' The last bit, I think she added only to cheer up the brunette, who was now looking rather miserable.

'I'm sure we will!' I said, hoping to lighten up the mood a bit.

'But, if I may so bold by asking, what does your family think of it? Wouldn't they want you to marry some noble man?'

She bit her lip once more and then answered, in an almost inaudible voice 'They don't know yet..'

'They don't know?!' Adrienne said, jumping up from the bench and looking at her friend, rather astonished.

'Oh Adrienne, you know how my family is. They wouldn't hear a word of it. I am sure they would not let me see him again, let alone marry him.'

Anne lay a comforting hand on her shoulder. 'I am sure they'll come around as soon as they know how happy you are with him.'

'I do hope so…'

'They will, without a doubt!' And with that, the topic was closed, the conversation had ended and we were all left slightly uncomfortable. Things were going to change in our friend circle, there was no doubt about that. I just hoped it wouldn't be for the worse.

**pagebreak ~**

Later it was decided, that Marie-Claire would stay until next year's February, so _madame_ Giry wouldn't have to rewrite the choreography of the upcoming Opera. Furthermore, that meant she would be on the party as well when we would go to Adrienne's brother for Christmas, an event that was now only a week away. I still hadn't decided whether I was looking forward to it or not, but I tried not to think about it too much, to avoid getting wrapped up in thoughts and concerns.

I hadn't seen, spoken or heard from _monsieur_ Rousseau – I still refused to think of him as Christophe – ever since Adrienne had read me the paragraph in which he'd inquired after my health. Surely that would mean he wasn't trying to court me and it should calm my nerves, but it did nothing of the sort. I didn't even know why I was so scared of it, but I only knew that I was terribly afraid of the possibility. And that made the idea of a nice Christmas with my friends a lot less appealing.

Christmas.. that was another thing to keep in mind. It was only a week away and I still needed to get my presents. I didn't earn a lot with dancing, but I was sure it would be enough to buy my gifts. It wouldn't be difficult to find something for Adrienne, as I had overheard her complaining about her having "nothing to put in my hair" to one of the other girls that morning. For Marie-Claire, I wanted to get something for when she'd be living with her suitor – pardon me; her husband. That just left Meg, Anne and Véronique. However, I was sure I'd even find something for them if I'd be in town.

And I did. I managed to find everything I needed, so all in all; I was quite content. With three large bags I'd returned to the Opera House and had quickly hidden them in my closet, where my music box lay as well. It was a good thing I didn't have that much clothes, because I'm sure it wouldn't all have fit in the closet of one of the other girls. Especially not the little redhead's, as hers seemed to be stuffed to the brim with dresses, ribbons and coats.

**pagebreak ~**

I woke up slowly from the sunlight that illuminated my face. For a moment though, I kept my eyes firmly shut and tried to drift back to sleep, hoping to find back the dream I had just woken up from. I couldn't remember what it had been about anymore, but I knew it had been something good. At last, when I knew it would be impossible to go back to sleep, I opened my eyes and sighed. The somber appearance of the dormitories met my sight and as usual, the other girls were still fast asleep. It was quite a peaceful sight, to see the girls – the ages varying from twelve to twenty – vast asleep, all in their own world of dreams and fantasies.

It was de day before Christmas and at noon we would leave for _monsieur_ Rousseau's house. Anne had told me it wouldn't be a long trip, just three hours by carriage. And it would be through the countryside, which was a promise of intriguing sights and breathtaking views. I hadn't travelled much in my time, since I was mostly needed around the house for chores and watching my little sister, so I was quite excited by the trip.

I wondered how my family would be spending they're Christmas Eve. Mom had written me that they would just have a nice dinner with the three of them, because my brother was still on the road, and perhaps there would be a few small presents for my sister. Presents at our house were never lavish and it was always more about the idea of giving things to one another than about the actual gift. Nonetheless, I had always enjoyed Christmas at our house and I truly hoped that this one could be even half as joyful.

With a soft grunt, I pushed off the sheets and hoisted myself in one of my prettier dresses. I had already packed some stuff for the weekend at the estate, so there wasn't much to choose from anymore. Not that there had been much in the first place, like I stated before; my closet was quite modest in comparison with those of the others.

After I had brushed my hair and put on some simple shoes, I quickly made my bed and gathered the last few things I would need and checked my packings. I would only take a small valise with me, but I didn't want to forget anything crucial. After all, it would lead to rather uncomfortable situations if I were to forgot my stockings or underwear.

I shook my head and went down to have some breakfast. It was still completely silent in the opera house, I noticed as I made my way through the winding corridors. What a relief!It really was too early to be bothered by high pitch voices screaming and giggling to one another, I thought, as I finally reached the dining hall.

And indeed, as I had hoped, the entire hall was still void of people and I got to eat my breakfast in silence – that is; apart from the single "_bon appétit"_ I got from Pierre. As soon as I was finished I quickly went back to the dormitories, retrieved the presents from my closet, and placed them carefully in my valise. Then I took the last thing from my closet and, after a short moment of hesitation, left the dormitories again. My feet seemed to already know where I wanted to go, because they found their way through the labyrinth of corridors in no time. This time, however, before going in I checked the hall three times and then quickly slipped through the crack, into the box.

I waited a moment until my eyes had adjusted to the dim light and then shuffled my way towards the red chair and gently laid down the package I held, the letter on top of it. I sighed and looked around, although I knew he wouldn't be there. 'Merry Christmas_, monsieur._'


	33. Chapter 33

Sitting in a carriage with five other young women proved to be anything but joyful, I learned when we were only minutes removed from the Opera House. The space was crammed, the chatter meaningless and I soon found out the 'short ride' Anne had been talking about would in reality be a five hour ride through the countryside's winding and bumpy roads, without any stops before we'd actually be at the Rousseau estate.

I had been lucky enough to seat myself at the window and therefore had settled with gazing at the trees and bushes that passed by, trying to shut out all the mindless chattering around me. This proved to be a real challenge, as all girls seemed to be determined to involve me in the conversation, whatever it was about.

In my mind, I was already dreading the moment we'd arrive and at that moment I'd rather, in all honesty, sit for an entire week in the carriage with _mademoiselle_ Dampierre than to have to be at the house of Adrienne's brother. I couldn't quite put my finger on why exactly it unnerved me to be under one roof with him so much, but it was rather frightful that I was so reluctant to go to something that should turn out to be a joyful event.

'What say you to that, Angèlique?'

I looked up from my thoughts and frowned, not at all knowing what the subject was I was requested to comment about. 'I.. I don't know, I'm sorry. I must admit my thoughts were occupied elsewhere.'

'Yes, well you've been acting so strange the entire week. My brother won't bite, you know,' Adrienne said, jestingly, but I immediately turned red of course.

'I know.. I guess I just don't feel comfortable having to stay at the house of someone I barely know.'

'But you do know him!'

'Just.. could you leave me be for the moment, I guess I just need a minute to gather my thoughts.' I said, then excused myself before gazing out of the window once more. Truthfully, I knew I was going to need more than just a minute to regain even half of my usual spirits. There was simply too much in my mind to think clearly. First of all there was the departure of Marie-Claire, which I knew I should be happy about, but mostly just felt sad about. Then there was the upcoming show – the first one in which I would dance one of the leads ever since I nearly died – and the stress that brought along with it. Us going to _monsieur_ Rousseau's house brought along even more stress and then, to top it off, there was always the Opera Ghost to worry about. When coming to the Opera, I surely hadn't thought it would be all this stressful. In fact, I had somehow thought of it more as a fairytale than the actual real – and harsh – world. I never thought it would include so much drama, heart-ache, effort and even a Phantom of the Opera! It was truly unbelievable to think of the strange turns my life had taken ever since I came to Paris.

It was when I'd just decided it would do no harm if I'd just rest my head against the window for a while and close my eyes, that a voice from outside the carriage – undoubtedly belonging to the driver – made it known to us that we would arrive at our destination shortly.

As if on cue, all young women in the carriage seemed to frantically start arranging their dresses and smoothing their hair. It was a sight to be seen, indeed, for I had never seen Anne or Meg behave this way. Usually two of the more rational ladies in the Opera, it seemed really uncharacteristically for them to behave in such a matter. However, it must be said of course that given the circumstances, it wasn't that strange at all. After all we were to visit a noble man and, even though most of the girls were accustomed to being around nobility – after all, they were part of it theirselves –, that didn't ease their fretting the slightest bit.

I myself, of course, shared in this behavior. If not more, I was at least equally nervous and anxious to arrive as the other girls. Not being used to being around nobility, I didn't know what to expect when we'd arrive. Would we have servants? Would we all have separate rooms? I really did not know what to expect, nor did I know how to behave. It'd be best to just follow the other girls' lead and just let things happen, because worrying about it would not make it better. Of course, this was easier said than done and I was still just as high-strung.

I sighed and rested my hands in my lap, while gazing out of the window in the hope of seeing anything at all that might point out our precise location. I did not learn much from it, for the trees lining the country road looked similar to the ones I'd seen hours ago and for all I knew we could've been riding in circles as soon as we'd left Paris. However, at that moment I saw grey peeking through the trees in the distance and Adrienne let out a cry of excitement.

'There it is!'

Again, all the girls moved at the same second, this time all towards the window I'd been gazing through for the entire length of the journey. With our faces almost pressed against the window, we admired the beautiful mansion that came in perfect view as the carriage rounded one last corner.

After the coach man had pulled the carriage to a halt, the carriage door was opened by a young man in humble clothes who helped each of us out of the carriage.

When I was finally able to stretch my legs once more – what a joy that was! – and felt the bright rays of sunlight from the winter sun warm my face I took a good look at the building. It was a large, rectangular building, constructed of grey bricks and large windows. Although grotesque, it was also elegant and cozy looking. The flowerbeds in front of the windows were empty, as were the other flowerbeds in the garden, but I presumed they would be crammed with the most amazing sorts of flowers in the summer.

Overwhelmed by all the grandeur, I completely overlooked the owner of all this beauty, who was, in fact, standing right in front of me as I got notice of him. I scratched my ear uncomfortably, suddenly all of the anxiety and nervousness catching up with me once more.

'I'm so glad to see you again. And in good health, I trust?' _Monsieur_ Rousseau smiled warmly and kissed my hand politely.

I tried to return the welcoming smile with one of my own, but only managed to get as much as one corner of my mouth to curl upwards. 'It is so nice to see you too, _monsieur_. And indeed I am in very good health once more, as you can see.'

He opened his mouth again, but at that moment he seemed to remember the remainder of his guests, all shivering in the cold winter air. 'Oh right, I'm sorry my dear friends, I shall lead you inside to give you a quick tour around the house, then I'll leave you to ready yourselves for dinner, which will be served at half past six. Alright, follow me!' With that, he turned on his heel and made his way back inside.

For a moment I stood wondering, what I was supposed to do with my luggage, but as I noticed the others left theirs I decided to just follow their lead.

Soon, when we'd entered the main entrance, I discovered the inside of the house was even more impressive than the outside. The floor was made of a beautiful, crème colored marble that seemed to be polished into perfection. The walls, which were about ten feet tall, were painted in a same crème color and were decorated with several paintings, a large mirror and a a couple of small, golden chandeliers. Lining them, there were also a few vases with flower bouquets in them – all roses I noticed, how predictable – and two marble sculptures of ancient Greek Gods. This sure promised to be a grand tour!

**pagebreak ~**

An hour and over two dozen of rooms later, we finally reached the rooms in which we would be sleeping. He pointed us all to our rooms – we all seemed to have our own! – and told us once more that dinner would be in an hour. I was about to turn to the room I was given, when I felt a hand on my arm. Turning back, I found it belonged to the master of the house himself.

'So what do you think, _mademoiselle_? Is it sufficient?'

'Why, yes, _monsieur, _of course! It is very beautiful indeed, both house and surroundings.' I nodded and smiled.

'Yes, yes, I deem myself fortunate for getting to live in such a magnificent environment as this. I truly wish that we'll find time to visit the village nearby. The people are extremely friendly and there is lots to see.'

'Very fortunate indeed, monsieur, as is the woman who will one day be able to call herself mistress of the house.'

He was silent for a moment, seeming lost in thought, but then snapped back to reality and blinked his eyes for a second. With a lopsided smile he said 'Well, fortunate for having such a house perhaps. But for having such a man is yet to be seen.' He winked. 'Well, I must be going. I am sorry for taking up so much of your precious time, I shall keep you no longer from your doings, _mademoiselle_.'

'No apology needed, _monsieur_, it was a pleasure talking to you.'

'No, Angèlique, the pleasure was all mine.' And with that he turned and strode away, leaving me standing in the hallway, feeling slightly surprised.


	34. Chapter 34

When I woke up the following morning, I was delighted by the sight that met my eyes; The room was spacious and royally decorated with furniture and art. In one wall opposite of the door there was a grate, surrounded by a pair of comfortable looking chairs and a sofa. In another, stood the wardrobe and yet another seemed to function as a study area, complete with writing desk, bookcase and reading lamp. But the thing which had really brought the smile on my face, were the white flakes that were tumbling down outside my window.

I was quickly on my feet and made my way towards the large window frame. After opening the curtains completely, my breath was completely taken away by the wonderful view. The entire garden, from the front steps until the hedges at the far edges of the garden, was covered with a thick layer of snow.

For how long I had been standing there, marveling at the view, I do not know, but suddenly there was a knock on the door.

'Who's there?' I called out, absent-mindedly.

The door opened and an unfamiliar girl stepped into my room and curtsied. 'It's Nadine, _mademoiselle_. I was sent here to inform you that breakfast will be in half an hour.' With that, she turned, but I stopped her before she had a chance to leave the room by grabbing hold of her arm softly.

'What am I supposed to wear?'

**pagebreak ~**

When I finally arrived in the dining room, all dressed up and pretty looking, everyone was already seated around a large, dark wooden table in the center of the room – everyone, expect for Adrienne. The room was large and high, and tall windows provided the room with enough light, even on a full moon night. The windows were dressed with beautiful baby blue curtains, which covered the entire length of the wall and fit perfectly with the rest of the room.

'I'm sorry, I overslept!' She stated and giggled when she noticed she was the only one still wearing her nightgown. She didn't seem to mind very much though, because she sat herself opposite of me nonetheless and didn't look in the least embarrassed. 'So what do we have to break our fasts, dear brother?'

Her brother simply silenced her and closed his eyes as to do his prayer. Everyone soon followed and before long we were enjoying the wonderful food that had been prepared for our Christmas morning. There were freshly baked bread rolls, croissants, meat and even several sorts of fruit – of which I truly did not know where he had gotten them at this time of year. I decided to settle myself with only one warm croissant and a glass of _jus d'orange_, as my stomach still was very easily upset, especially in the mornings and I didn't want to risk anything coming up again.

Adrienne was refilling her plate for the third time with some more bread rolls, bacon and some ham at the time I finished my croissant and I looked in amazement as she wolfed the food away at the same speed she had devoured her last one.

By the time she finished filling her plate for the fifth time she suddenly crossed her arms in front of her chest and looked at all of us, annoyed. 'Could you all please stop staring at me, for the love of God, I'm trying to eat here!'

Her brother coughed and tried to stifle his laugh. 'Yes, we can all see that, Adrienne.. Will you be done soon, because then we can move on to the salon and perhaps exchange some presents.'

'Presents?' She exclaimed and pushed away her plate. 'Why didn't you say so, what are we even waiting for?' Before anyone had even time to respond, the little redhead had jumped from her chair and was already racing out of the room.

Anne cleared her throat and smiled. 'Well, I guess it's best we follow her.'

The rest of us agreed in silence and followed _monsieur_ Rousseau to another room. This chamber, although not as large as the dining room, was even more beautiful than the last. It's walls were covered with dark wooden panels and the floor was also made of rich wooden floorboards. In one of the corners was a fireplace and on the chimney stood several small photo frames and portraits. The furniture consisted of two comfortable looking, crimson sofas, an armchair in the same color, a wooden salon table and a grand piano in another corner. Between the two large windows stood a large pile of boxes and bags and Adrienne was on her knees, right in front of it.

'Hurry up!_'_ She cried out as she saw us enter and she ran up to us, a small box in her hands. 'Come on, seat yourself, _please_.' The last word was quickly added after a look she received from her older brother.

'Alright, now if everyone is comfortable, you may begin.'

Full of expectation, she looked at all of us and then handed the box she'd held to Anne and skipped back to the pile of presents.

Anne carefully opened the wrapping paper and peaked inside the box, as if it might contain some poisonous snake that would bite her if she was not careful enough. Then she smiled widely and opened it further, revealing a shiny, warm looking scarf. 'Awh, thank you!'

**pagebreak ~**

'Come on, one more!' Marie-Claire said, as she herself downed what must have been her eighteenth glass of wine. After we had exchanged gifts that morning, we had gone to a small village nearby where we'd spent the rest of the day, only to come home to a wonderful Christmas meal. When we had all eaten our share, we'd gone back to the salon and Christophe – _monsieur_ Rousseau I mean – had opened a bottle of wine. The first one I have to admit, for many more would soon follow. At first, I had been more than a little reluctant to accept the wine, since I had never consumed alcohol before, but had soon learned to enjoy the taste of it. Conversation had grown bolder, people looser and I found I didn't care at all about any of that.

I giggled along with the rest when Adrienne, who had been drinking far more than her share, fell asleep on the shoulder of Meg in the middle of the conversation and on top of that started snoring too. It truly was a sight to be seen and before I knew it, I was shaking with laughter so much, that tears were streaming down my face. I let myself fall against the person beside me – I believe it was Christophe, although I can't say for sure – and heaved a big sigh of satisfaction. A sudden wave of sleepiness washed over me and nestled my head in the crook of his neck. Today, I yawned, had been the best Christmas I had ever had.

**The Phantom's point of view**

When he woke up that morning, or rather; came back to senses after having been lost in one of his waking nightmares once again, the first thing he noticed was the working desk he had been sitting at last night. And still was, apparently. Sighing, he straightened his clothes, checked if his mask was still in place and moved towards the kitchen.

Memories had been plaguing him ever since the great disaster. Memories, which he'd rather forget, but simply couldn't. A part of him wanted to, but another didn't, because he could, no he _would_ not forget her. Even after all the pain he'd been dealt because of her – or, if he was honest with himself, because of loving her – she was the only good thing that had ever given meaning to his miserable life.

Another sigh slipped from his lips. It truly was too early in the morning to be thinking about a subject such as this. But, in all honesty, he was always thinking of her. Morning, noon, evening, nights – oh, especially the nights – it did not matter. Now that he thought of it, was it even morning at all? He gazed at the grandfather clock in the corner; eleven. But eleven in the morning, evening? He didn't know and it frustrated him greatly.

In mid-step, he turned and, grabbing his cloak from one of the chairs, made his way into one of the secret passages. What about today it was, he did not know, but somehow he felt even worse than normally.

Perhaps you're just one step closer to going mad, one of the voices offered him. Or perhaps you've simply moved on to a higher level of madness.

When he'd reached the ground level of the Opera, he opened one of the panels in the wall discretely and gazed into the wall. No one. Outside one of the tall windows, he could see it was already around midday, although the sun was yet to show his face. He frowned, this was very suspicious. Very suspicious indeed. This corridor, which was directly connected to the lobby, was normally rife with people, no matter what part of the day it was. Was there something he was forgetting? Had the managers perhaps been less of a coward than he had presumed and would his house be infested with police men by the time he got back? He quickly closed the panel, stumbling back in the dark corridor, up to the auditorium. If someone would be inside the Opera, they were bound to be there.

In the auditorium however, it was eerily quiet as well. No violin strings being pulled, no off-key singers struggling to get through their part. He turned and was about to leave the box when a small package and letter on the seat of his velvet chair caught his eye.


	35. Chapter 35

As I opened my eyes, the light blinded me and a terrible wave of nausea overwhelmed me. I mumbled a 'Dear God', which sounded far too loud to my own liking, and squinted my eyes. Another sensation was soon added to my already too large a pile of misery, for my head seemed to be about to explode and each beat of my heart was echoing painfully through my head. What had I done to deserve such hardships on an early morning? And that on the day after Christmas, too. I must have done something terrible to receive such punishment from the Lord, I thought as I held a hand against my stomach. The Lord must have been very cross with me indeed.

I slowly opened my eyes again, blinking furiously against the bright light. Why had I not closed the curtains before I went to sleep? When my eyes had finally adjusted to the light, I noticed the state my room was in. My clothes seemed to have been carelessly scattered throughout my room, my shoes – well, the one I could find at least – was lying in a distant corner and when I looked at myself, I found I was wearing nothing but my undergarments.

At that moment, the door to my private bathroom opened and a man walked in. I could not believe my eyes and for a moment forgot all about my nausea. However, that moment did not last long and before even ten seconds had passed, I was on my way to the bathroom myself, to empty my stomach into the toilet. I felt someone step up behind me and hold my hair back, but I knew it would be for the best that I finished emptying my stomach before I would do any of the confronting and shouting I planned to do. Not that I was really angry. No, I was merely very confused and embarrassed, but mostly I was afraid of the black hole in my memory.

After the last bit of my stomach contents had been disposed of, I let myself slump down on the bed and held my head in my hands tiredly. He sat himself on the sofa and for some minutes, we sat in silence.

When I had mustered enough courage, I looked up at him. '_Monsieur_, I must ask, I.. Did we.. What..?' I didn't seem to be able to say anything coherent at all, let alone voice the concerns that clouded my mind this very morning.

He held up a hand, as to cease me from speaking any more. 'Nothing happened, Angélique, I promise.'

'Then why are you here, _monsieur_?'

'Do you not remember anything, then?' At my negative response, he looked out of the window and for a moment I thought he wouldn't answer anymore at all. Then, at last, he spoke. 'Yesterday evening, after we all got more than our share of wine, everyone retreated to their rooms. However, because you were in no condition to even make it to the stairs, let alone to go up them, I escorted you to your room. Then, when I was about to leave, you asked me to stay with you and so I waited until you fell asleep and then slept on the sofa myself. That's all that happened, I swear it to you.'

I nodded, partly ashamed, partly hoping desperately that he was speaking the truth, but not wanting to ask any further.

_Monsieur_ Rousseau cleared his throat and looked at the ground beneath his feet awkwardly. 'There is.. something I must ask you too, though. I know it is none of my business, but still I fear I can't contain my curiosity – and concerns. In your sleep, you.. you spoke to someone. A man, I think. Do you.. often do this?'

**pagebreak ~**

Several hours later, we were all packed and ready to go back to Paris. The other girls were reluctant to leave the beautiful countryside, I, however, felt like departure couldn't be soon enough. Not that I hadn't had a great time at _monsieur _Rousseau's estate, no, it was just that things had become very awkward in the last couple of hours. Fortunately, I hadn't had to explain to anyone why _monsieur_ Rousseau had slept in my room – I would never have heard the end of it if Adrienne got air of it – for he had taken a hidden corridor that was hidden behind one of the tapestries.

It was actually quite a strange idea, to know he could enter the room whenever he pleased, but at that moment I had been more than happy that no one would have to find out. Even better, was that most of the others had been equally drunk last night and didn't remember the evening either, and therefore hadn't seen Adrienne's brother bringing me to my room.

And so, the only remaining problem was that he, _monsieur_ Rousseau I mean, now knew of my sleeping problems. And not only had I had to tell him, but he had actually heard me talking. The embarrassment truly was immense. I hadn't told him everything (I had let out the entire part that involved the Opera Ghost of course), but still I was quite sure he'd avoid me from now on.

'Alright, I think it is time for us to go now, we've kept the driver waiting long enough and it wouldn't be wise to put him in all too foul a mood, since he still has to bring us back all the way to Paris. Besides, we'd better leave now, for the days are short and I wouldn't want to travel through night,' while saying the last, Anne looked at the sky pensively, as if the future would somehow reveal itself in the grey clouds.

'Indeed, we must go,' I insisted, wishing to leave the estate as soon as possible.

After a quick, uncomfortable parting we stepped in our carriage and set off. As soon as we rounded the corner and the mansion was out of view, I heaved a sigh of relief. It was as if a great weight was lifted off of my shoulders and I could finally breathe freely again. However, I was still feeling rather low and it must have been showing off on my face, for it didn't take long before Anne leaned into me.

'What has put you in such low spirits, dear?'

I shrugged – something very unladylike to do, I know – and turned my gaze to my weaved fingers. 'I don't know._._ I suppose I just miss the Opera.'

Anne nodded understandingly. 'I guess we all do, to some extent.' She laughed 'I for one miss my own bed, with its bumpy matrass and its worn blankets, as crazy at it might sound.'

'Oh I know exactly what you mean,' Marie-Claire cried out and joined in her laughter. 'I even miss the musty smell!'

We all laughed now and I couldn't deny it was true. The Opera had really grown on me in the short time I had been living there, even things like this. No, perhaps especially things like this.

'And Pierre, oh how I miss his desserts! No offense to your brother's cook of course, Adrienne, but Pierre really must come and live with me for the rest of my life, so he can make me desserts every single day!'

'You have nothing to complain about Marie, for your _monsieur_ Lemoine, will surely bake you everything you can wish for if you just know the right way to motivate him!' Adrienne wiggled with her eyebrows at this point and then laughed.

'I am sure he would,' Meg laughed, 'and otherwise he will learn soon enough not to disobey her demands.'

'Oh how cruel you all are to me! You should not tease me so much, you know, for I might just decide to rather walk the entire way back to Paris than to sit in this carriage with you four, awful ladies!' Marie, in an attempt to look serious, crossed her arms in front of her chest and made an angry face. This attempt, however, did not last long, and before long she was lying on Veronique's lap, tears running down her cheeks with joy. At last, when she finally calmed down enough to sit up straight again, she spoke. 'Oh, my dear friends, I am so glad I have you all!' And with that she pulled us all in a big, highly uncomfortable, group hug.


	36. Chapter 36

Life at the Opera soon became the same old routine of sleeping, eating and dancing and in less than a week, it was hard to imagine that I had ever done anything else, let alone a few days ago. In fact, life at the _Garnier_ passed on so much as if there were no such things as holidays, friends in great manors and drunk nights that on some moments, I could almost believe it when I'd pretend nothing ever happened at _monsieur_ Rousseau's mansion. However, at those moments there would always pop something up to remind me of the fact that it was, indeed, very real, even – or perhaps especially – the parts of the trip I wanted to forget most.

Besides being extraordinary ordinary, the week was also a bit disappointing. When leaving the Christmas present in box five, I had hoped for some sort of a reaction. Even just a letter, or perhaps some returned best wishes for the holidays, but alas, I received nothing. Not a word, not even a sign. It was as if I hadn't even send anything and I regretted I ever had. Of course it had been foolish of me, after all; what had I expected? Nay, I hadn't been hoping for some expensive, grandiose, gift, but something, I suppose. At least, I hadn't expected mine to go unnoticed.

Suddenly at that moment, the door of the dormitories burst open and Adrienne came in, waving a letter in the air as she made her way towards me. The room was empty apart from myself, as I had been sleeping in late yesterday, not willing to put the book I'd been reading away. Luckily it was a Sunday and I had the day to myself. Or so I thought..

'Dear, there's a letter for you! It's from Christophe!' She jumped on my bed, uncaring about the fact that I was in fact still half asleep, and handed me the letter.

I eyed it curiously and said, more to myself than to the redhead that was currently sitting on my legs; 'Why would he send a letter to me?' As soon as the words passed my lips, however, a terrible possibility dawned on me. No, he couldn't wish to speak about _that_, could he?

'Well, come on, are you going to read it or are you planning on staring until it will open itself?' Adrienne cried out impatiently.

'Mind yourself, young lady,' I said, teasing 'For I don't have any obligation to tell you what it says!'

She went silent immediately and sat herself more comfortably – for both herself as me – on the bed. With her elbow she softly nudged me to continue and I indulged in her request.

'"My dearest Angèlique_"_,' I read aloud '"I thank you for delighting us all with your presence at Christmas. I surely enjoyed the time we've spent together and I hope to meet you soon, once more. Perhaps we can have lunch together in the New Year, say the Sunday of seven January? Yours sincerely_, _Christophe Rousseau".' There was a post scriptum at the bottom of the letter, but I decided to read it later when I'd have… well, more privacy. Instead, I folded the letter and tugged it back in the envelope, waiting for what was sure to be an interesting response. And I was right.

'You see, I was right! I was right all along!' She jumped up and danced strangely around my bed, all the while pointing at me and chanting the words "I was right" over and over again, as if it was some sort of magic spell. After some time, when she'd finally seated herself back on my bed, there was room for me to speak.

'Oh Adrienne, I can assure you it is not as you think. I think very fondly of your brother, yes, and I presume he thinks of me likewise, but my feelings, _our_ feelings, are purely amicable and have nothing to do with romance.'

She cocked her eyebrow and gave me a look. 'Yours might be purely amicable, but I know my brother well enough to know that there is more to it from his side.' I opened my mouth to object, but she immediately cut me off. 'Do you think he has such correspondence with Meg or Anne? Or even with me?'

'They are just letters..' I protested.

'Good Heavens, how can you be so stubborn?' She shook her head and stood from the bed once again. 'Fine, think of it as you will, but I know that you are simply fooling yourself.' And with that, she stormed off.

I stared at her as she left the room, slamming the door shut with a loud bang and slowly got up from my bed. Although I knew what she was saying was absolutely ridiculous and only possible in the fantasy of a girl her age, I felt sorry for upsetting her. It hadn't been my intention to make her mad and I sincerely hoped I hadn't made her cross with me. Still thinking about the entire situation, I slowly got to washing and dressing myself and finally left for breakfast.

When I reached the dining hall at last, I found it completely deserted and figured it must have been later than I had originally thought. I resolved in eating just a bit of toast and marmelade, as I wasn't that hungry, and let my feet take me across the Opera, to my favorite place to think.

As was to be expected, especially on a Sunday, the ballet studio was completely deserted and I lowered myself on the floor. With my arms propped up underneath my head, I stared at the sealing and took in the tranquility of the moment. It was the first moment of rest I had had since we'd come back to Paris, and yet I felt an inner tumult. I thought about Adrienne's words. Could it be so after all? Was there a chance _monsieur_ Rousseau thought of me as more than simply friends? I doubted it. After all, he was a man of noble, rich ancestry and I was.. well, I wasn't anything special. More important however, was the way Adrienne had left my room this morning. She was a good friend to me and I couldn't even bear the thought of losing someone so dear.

Guilt was eating away at my insides and I wished I could turn back time. I yawned and closed my eyes, only to open them again a second later due to an unexpected sound.

'I wouldn't worry too much about the little redhead if I were you. She'll come around soon enough.' I recognized his voice in a heartbeat and scrambled to my feet.

'How did you know I.. Where _are_ you, _monsieur_?' I inspected the room thoroughly, but he was nowhere to be seen. There wasn't really somewhere to hide oneself anyway, as the room consisted mostly of large mirrors that reached from the ceiling to the floor.

'I have my ways,' he mused mysteriously and his voice seemed a whisper that came from all around me. 'Turn around.'

Doing as told, I stood face to face with a tall, slender young woman with brown hair and cloudy eyes. Myself. The mirror I was looking at was only inches away and I reached out to my other self. Suddenly, however, my reflection seemed to blur and distort. I held my breath and took a step back, unsure what to think of what seemed to be witchcraft at the time.

The shape in the mirror took clearer contours again and I finally realized what I had been looking at. A dark cloak, a black mask covering the half of a delicately shaped face. I saw him as clear as I had just seen myself in the looking glass. Every detail, every inch. I just didn't understand how. Before I had even a chance to open my mouth and ask the burning question, he spoke.

'Close your eyes.' At my hesitation, he added. 'I won't hurt you, I promise.'

Again, I conceded to his wishes and closed my eyes, only feeling a small bit of the anxiety that I was supposed to feel on a moment like this. Strong hands took a hold of my smaller ones and gently pulled me towards the mirror. I waited for a clash, a collision of flesh and glass, but it never came. Instead I felt cooler air surround me and the world behind my eyelids grew dark. Of course, at that moment, I panicked. I drew in my breath and bit my lip, fighting the urge to start running. I had opened my eyes, but was met with only darkness around me.

'Where are we? What are you going to do with me?' I fought to free my arms, but only ended up stumbling over my own two feet and nearly falling, if not for the same strong hands who had taken a hold of my hands a few moments ago.

'Calm down,' he said in a low voice. 'As I said, I am not going to hurt you. But you'll have to keep calm and trust me, otherwise you'll never get back.'

**The Phantom's point of view**

Even to him, it sounded strange to hear the word 'trust' come from his own mouth, as he himself had only ever trusted one person, and she had broken his heart and nearly gotten him killed. Yet, for some reason he was here, taking this other, equally young but perhaps a little less naïve, girl down his secret corridors.

This time is different, he argued. He wouldn't show her his home, his heart and his music or try to get close to her as he had to his Angel. All he wanted to do was somehow give the girl something back for the present she had given him for Christmas. And so, here he was, pulling another ballerina through the secret maze.

Strangely enough, though, the girl seemed to relax at his words and let herself be willingly guided through the dark, narrow passageways that were unbeknownst to all but himself and _madame_ Giry. She listened closely when he told her to crouch or move alongside the left wall, when she did not even know what for. It amazed him that she had trusted him so easily, but decided those were thoughts to ponder over some other time.

He thought back at the music box she had given him. It was a delicately made thing. The wood was a warm, rich brown and had beautiful carvings cut in the sides. Although a bit inexperienced, the maker must definitely have had some talent. The music inside was a simple tune, but he couldn't determine what it was from. He had played it countless of times on his organ, trying to find befitting lyrics for the song, but had never been able to come up with something that truly seemed to fit. Perhaps he could ask the girl one day if there were any existing lyrics to it.

He looked down at her and saw she was struggling to keep up with him, all the while trying not to trip over something in the dark passage. She hadn't complained about the pace, but he could clearly see she was barely managing to keep up.

'Just a few more minutes,' he told her 'We're almost there.' He thought about his surprise and felt pride rise in his chest. He had surely done his best. Now he only had to hope she would like it.


	37. Chapter 37

When he told me to open my eyes, I could hardly believe what I was seeing. The room I was in was large and light, although there wasn't a single window, and there was a large, homily looking fire going on in the fireplace in one of the four walls. Bits of dark wooden furniture were scattered across the chamber and on the parquetry was covered with a red carpet. However, this all was not what had overwhelmed me.

Covering every inch of the four walls – apart from the five feet that were occupied by the hearth – were book cases. Shelve upon shelve, books were dominating my vision. There must have been over a hundred books filling just two bookcases alone and the thought of so many books at one place alone dazzled me.

I stared in awe, gaping at the sight that was around me. It looked as if it were a scene from a dream, more leaning towards fantasy than actual reality, and I pinched myself discretely.

'Do you like it?'

'It's breathtaking_, monsieur_..' I stepped forward, slowly releasing his hold on my arm, and wandered through the room, stopping occasionally at a bookcase to admire the books it held. I let my fingers wander the spines of countless of books. At a certain moment, my gaze fell on a familiar title and I pulled the book from its place and opened it on an arbitrary page. My lips curled up in a slight smile. '"Why is a raven like a writing-desk?"'

'"I haven't the slightest idea,"' the Phantom finished for me with a sigh.

I placed the book back on the shelve and turned to him, noting he still hadn't moved from his place at the.. wall. I frowned, blinked my eyes and checked again, but there still was no sign of a door. Shaking my head, and feeling somewhat as if it had not been Alice, but myself, who fell down the rabbit hole, I inquired 'Have you read all the books in this room?'

He nodded and took a step forward, gazing in the fireplace. 'Every single one of them and many more than once. And since I got the impression you enjoyed reading, I wanted to share them with you. So here is your own personal library.. Merry Christmas_, mademoiselle_. '

My eyes went wide and I had to keep my mouth from doing the same as I stood in complete, but pleasant, shock. 'This all… is for me?'

The Phantom nodded once more and gestured for me to sit down. 'I wanted to give you something in return for your present and so I decided to move my books to this room and decorated it to look somewhat like a library, only.. well, it is for you alone. There are no doors to this room, no windows for nosey young brats to peer through, solely the company of books for those moments when you need solitude the most.'

I smiled gratefully, amazed at the striking insight he just proved to have in my life. '_Monsieur_, I truly know not what to say, for your gift is truly too great for me to accept. This all, it is just too much.'

The one visible eyebrow on his face curled up and he seemed somewhat in distress. 'Do you not like it? Is it not good enough a gift? Or is it perhaps because I gave it to you?' He stood from his chair and started pacing through the room.

'No,_ monsieur_, please..' I tried, but he didn't listen anymore. It was almost as if his mind had completely left the room and had gone off wandering back to other times. More unpleasant times. Unsure of what to do I, too, stood from my seat and cautiously went over to him. I'd had him striking out to me before, and I wanted to prevent that from happening again at all cost. 'Phantom?_ Monsieur?_' Watchful for his reaction the entire time, I reached out for him and softly grabbed his wrist.

His head snapped my way and for a moment I was afraid to be struck in the face, but the blow never came.

I breathed out a breath I didn't know I had held and pulled him slowly back to the chairs. 'Come, sit. I promise I absolutely adore your gift and the fact that it was you who gave it to me does not make it any less valuable, if possible even more. It is just that never before has someone given me such a beautiful present..'

'But you will not accept it?'

I smiled and said, hoping to make us both feel a bit better, 'I might if I can share it with someone else.' But again he misunderstood me.

'You want one of the other ballerinas here?' He scoffed. 'I reckon they hardly know what a book is, let alone what to do with it.'

I shook my head 'No, I meant someone else. Someone who shares my passion for reading, who can appreciate silence as much as I do.'

'I doubt you will find someone like that in this Opera House. They are all so full of themselves, too busy with admiring their reflection in the mirror to even take a look at…'

'I meant you, _monsieur_.'

Realization – and something what seemed awfully much like disbelief – dawned on his face. 'You want to share it with _me_?'

'Of course! Your knowledge of literature truly is admirable. Besides, I cannot deny I greatly enjoy your company, as long as you do not let your insecurities get the better of you.' I added the last part teasingly, but immediately regretted it. Studying his face carefully, I waited for an outburst of rage, but that, too, never came.

'Well, I shall try. But only on one condition.'

'Which might be?' I inquired curiously.

'That you will tell me all I want to know about the music box you gave me.'

I considered his request, then nodded. 'Fair enough, what do you want to know about it?'

He seemed to think for a moment. 'First of all; who is the maker?'

'My brother is.'

'So it was specially made for you?'

'It is. He made it for me when I was little.'

'And the tune it plays?'

'It's from a story my mother used to tell me. A fairytale, I suppose you could call it.'

'What kind of story?'

I smiled 'I don't think you would enjoy it very much, for it is hardly comparable to the literature you entertain yourself with. Very well,' I said, seeing his determination had not wavered. 'It is about a young woman, whose father is captured by a beast, but she goes and saves him by trading her life for his. Eventually the beast and the girl learn to get along, become friends and eventually fall in love. In the end true love's kiss breaks the curse and the beast turns back into a prince.'

The Phantom scoffed again. 'Not much of a good storyline indeed, but I suppose that's why it's called a fairytale.'

Quite unladylike, I shrugged my shoulders. 'As a kid, it used to make nighttime a little less frightening for me.'

He nodded. 'And the song, are there any lyrics to it?'

At that moment_, _a large grandfather's clock chimed and let us know that it was already six o'clock and I jumped from my chair. 'Goodness, is it already that late. I suppose time has really flown by today. I fear I must go, or the others will be wondering where I am. Perhaps we can talk some other time and then I will tell you the lyrics, if you like.'

The Phantom – it suddenly occurred to me how awful it was to constantly have to refer to him as such – stood along with me and took my arm. 'Let me take you to the dining hall, for there is little chance you'll find the way yourself.' And with that, a door magically appeared and we stepped back into the dark corridors we came from, leaving the secret library behind us.

**pagebreak ~**

Later that night, when I was in my bed, I was still smiling. I felt like a little kid, being excited because of a secret place I had, that nobody else knew off. But deep inside I knew that wasn't the only reason for my happiness. Today had been an important day, I would learn later, for it would mark the beginning of a new friendship.

**~**

**I tried keeping the Phantom as in character as possible, so I hope I didn't screw up too much, but I really just needed them to bond. Or really just to get along for even the tiniest bit, really, otherwise this story would never get going.  
><strong>


	38. Chapter 38

The next week flew by in a bit of a haze. My days were mainly filled with dancing and rehearsing, the latter having gone from awful to worse since Clémence had been replaced by the older, possibly even more egocentric prima donna. La Carlotta truly was, in many ways, the embodiment of everything I despised in the world. She was arrogant, selfish, uncaring about the feelings of others and cruel. Since _mademoiselle_ Dampierre had been so too, this really wasn't too much of a change. But whereas the former diva actually _had_ been able to sing, Carlotta seemed to disappoint even in that area. Oh she could sing alright, but she was often too much occupied by her own supposed beauty and superiority to actually stay in cue with the music. Apart from that, she sang far too loud and articulated the words so poorly that one could hardly tell it was French – or any sort of language, really. So all in all, I didn't particularly like her. I hadn't had the misfortune to run into her personally, so I didn't really know much about her apart from what I saw and heard, but I guess I knew enough to say I'd rather see her go as come. But I suppose everyone did. That is, apart from _messieurs_ Laroche and Bertrand, the managers, of course, who still seemed to be following her around like young puppies, obeying to her every wish.

Apart from dancing, I also spent large parts of my days reading. Although I couldn't find the time to sneak off every day, I tried to visit my library as much as possible. Not only did I greatly enjoy spending my time reading in one of the comfortable chairs by the hearth, I also felt a strange pull to visit, one which I really couldn't quite name for myself. I tried not to think of it too much, as it would only deter me from enjoying the little time I could spend in solitude. It was strange to think of it that way, since the Opera Ghost was always there, as well. I suppose one couldn't call him company, as we rarely talked much and only spoke about literature and music. But it was nice, I guess. They were silences I could bear, for they were not pregnant with expectations or the norms of society to have a conversation about some nonsensical subject.

The only thing that bugged me though, was that I could never really read him. There were times, of course, when he would speak animated about his music or about some book he'd read, and at those times it would be clear to me that he needed this just as much as I did. But there were also times he'd just sit there and stare in the fire and I wouldn't really know what to do. He'd seem lonely and lost and I would wonder what was on his mind, but I never dared to ask. Vice versa, he never asked me something personal either, even at times when I was feeling miserable. So therefore there were times we would both stare into the fire, each of us fighting our own demons in silence, but neither speaking up to reach out to one another. But I suppose it was fine and we shared some kind of understanding, where neither would intrude on one another's personal life, but where we would keep each other company nonetheless.

There was this one time, though, where he asked me about the music box again. And so I told him the entire story. About how I used to have nightmares every night. And about how the music box would somehow soothe my unconsciousness and offer me some peaceful sleep. And then he asked me about the lyrics again, so I wrote them down for him the other night. The next few nights, I could swear I heard faint music fill the Opera House and a familiar melody would find its way into my dreams. At a time, I even thought I could hear a voice accompany the piano chords, but I never found out whether it had been just a dream or not. Of course, when I asked him about it the other day, he denied the entire thing and even went so far as to question my sanity.

**pagebreak ~**

When I woke up that day I let out a yawn and stretched my legs against the footboard. Today was a Sunday and I had planned to do absolutely nothing. I was reading a magnificent book and hoped to find out how it'd end today. Besides that I looked forward to seeing the Phantom today, for I had heard the music again last night. He would just have to admit it, I thought and smiled. I snuggled underneath my blankets for a few minutes and then decided it would be time to break my fast, as my stomach was growling loudly even at the idea of food.

Looking around me, I found the dormitories completely void of people – something which tended to happen a lot on Sundays, since I was the only one ever to debus. Then again, I didn't have family to visit, so there wasn't really any reason for me to get out of bed in time.

I shook my head, trying to shake off the sleepiness and stood to gather some clothes for the day. At first, I picked a simplistic, pastel pink dress and some flats, but then decided to change it for a newer, prettier one. Why I did so, I didn't know exactly. Perhaps I just wanted to look a bit decent for my new friend, since he always looked immaculately neat in his evening attire. I smiled at a memory of a night when I asked him if he ever wore anything else but the suit. He had looked at me strangely and shaken his head, but had never really answered the question.

I was halfway through my morning routine of dressing and doing my hair when Marie-Claire burst into the room and ran up to me. 'Aren't you ready yet?'

I put down the brush I was using up until then to untangle my hair mass and looked at her curiously. 'What exactly is it I should be ready for?'

'Why, don't you have an important appointment today of some kind? At least, that's what Adrienne was making such a fuss about and why she practically forced me to abandon my meal to go and fetch you.'

Suddenly it hit me like lightning. It was the seventh of January. I mentally scolded myself for having forgotten about it completely, even when I had been reluctant the entire week. With all my might I tried to keep a straight face, for not only didn't I specifically not want to go to the lunch date, I now also had to refrain from doing the things I had originally planned to do today.

'You're not really looking forward to it, are you?'

I sighed 'No, not at all..'

She patted my back awkwardly, clearly not in her element. 'Well, I am sure you will survive.'

'Well thank you, that really makes me feel better,' I smiled and shook my head at her poor, but nevertheless sweet, attempt to make me feel better. I hugged her and sighed when looking in the mirror one last time. I suppose she was right, I would live through somehow.

And so I quickly rushed through the rest of my morning routine, standing in the lobby at precisely eleven o'clock.  
>By this time, my heart was beating so loudly its echoes seemed to bounce off the walls of the lobby and I felt lightheaded to the point I was afraid of fainting. I couldn't remember ever having been more nervous, not even when I had first arrived at the Opera Garnier. Then again, I had never been alone with a man before – at least, not when I hadn't been <em>terribly<em> drunk. And apart from my meetings with the Phantom, but somehow those didn't seem to count either. The fact that this very man had been, in fact, the same one I had been with when being drunk didn't make things look brighter either.

At this particular point in my reflections, where I had almost scared myself so much I was about to run back to the dormitories and hide under my blankets, the front doors opened.

When _monsieur_ Rousseau noticed me standing in the corner, he smiled and waved. 'Ah splendid, you're already here! I hope I didn't keep you waiting too long, but the carriage drove past the most charming flower boutique and I simply had to stop to buy you these.' He explained and presented me with what must have been the largest, most beautiful bouquet I had ever seen. There were all kinds of flowers and I immediately recognized my favourites; red roses and white lilies.

'Oh _monsieur_.. I.. you shouldn't have..' I stammered as I took in the variety of bright colours.

'I should and I have! And now, _mademoiselle_ Angèlique, how many times must I ask you to call me by my first name?'

I smiled. 'Just as many times as I shall insist to call you by your last, I am afraid, _monsieur_.'

He laughed and with that, he offered me his arm – which I took half-heartedly – and we left the Opera House.


	39. Chapter 39

When I got back at the Opera that evening, I couldn't have been more relieved that the day was over. I had to admit it had been a fairly nice day, objectively speaking. We had taken a stroll through the park, had had lunch in a small, but very sweet little lunchroom and later on drunk tea at a café on the river bank. _Monsieur_ Rousseau was an amiable young man who seemed to know something just about everything and who never seemed to mind to view things from a different point. We discussed travelling, other cultures, music and even politics and not once did we share an uncomfortable silence.

However, there was always this feeling of uneasiness lingering beneath the surface. Somehow I couldn't quite forget what Adrienne had said to me and it kept me from simply enjoying what could have been a wonderful day.

This made my mind even more of a mess than it already was. Because why wouldn't I want a kind, handsome and not to mention; rich, young man to take an interest in me? Shouldn't it come as a gift from God for someone like me? Truth was that I didn't know and couldn't even fathom what was not to be liked about _monsieur_ Rousseau. And yet.. These thoughts continued to take up most of my attention, even as I was seated at the table in the dining hall, when my friends were in an animated discussion about some topic that had gone unnoticed to me.

'Don't you agree, Angèlique?'

Adrienne giggled 'I think our dear friend's mind has been occupied by entirely different matters than our meaningless chatting.'

'Indeed, you had a luncheon with a certain gentleman, if I recall correctly,' Marie-Claire bend forward, as if to show me she was all ears.

I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, not liking the attention put on me a bit, especially not since I really hadn't had anything to say about my afternoon. 'Well.. I eh.. It was nice.'

'"It was nice"?' Marie-Claire repeated, uncomprehendingly 'No smudgy details you have to tell us?'

'Not really, no. We talked, we took a stroll and we ate, that's pretty much all there was to it.' I looked at her still expectant face and frowned slightly. 'It's not like he'd ask me to marry him, you know. We barely know each other!'

'But well enough to go on a lunch date,' Adrienne commented. 'Oh please, Angèlique, for the love of God, just admit you like the man, so we can resume diner.'

I bit my lip. 'It's not like I don't think of him highly, but I.. well..' looking down at my hands I stood from the table. 'I'm sorry, I must go.' I didn't offer them any more explanation and turned on my heel. I knew I was being terribly rude, but I couldn't help it. My state of mind had been already horrible when I arrived at the Opera House and I just couldn't handle talking about my feelings concerning _monsieur_ Rousseau. Not until I had things figured out for myself.

My feet automatically guided me towards the empty ballet studio, where I dropped myself onto the parquet floor and held my head in my hands. Life had been getting more and more complicated lately and instead of puzzling things together, I only seemed to acquire more pieces.

'May I enter?'

Looking up, I found Anne standing at the door post and I nodded. I wanted to tell her that I hadn't had any right to deny her entrance, since it was a public place, but couldn't find the energy.

She quietly sat beside me, just like she had done several times before and it made me realize how much I respected this quality of hers. She always seemed to understand when to speak and when to be quiet, when to embrace me and when to give me some space. It truly was one of the things I liked most about her. 'I am sorry if you rather wanted to be alone, but we were worried.'

'It's okay, really. It's mostly the chaos in my head I wanted to run away from.'

'Did it work?'

'I suppose not..' I sighed and looked down at my hands again. 'Lately things just have been confusing and instead of getting solved, they just seem to be piling up, until at last I can't see beyond them anymore.'

'Do you care to talk about them?'

'I'd rather sort them out for myself first, if that's alright. I'm sorry.'

She held up her hands. 'No offence taken, my dear friend. I shall leave you to your thoughts, but know that you can always talk to me when you feel ready for it.'

'Thank you.. Oh Anne, I'd rather if you would not tell the others about it.'

She stood and dusted off her skirt. 'I won't, don't worry,' she smiled and closed the door behind her when she left.

For a time I just stared at the place where I'd last seen her, then I sighed. She'd truly been a valuable friend to me here at the Opera. Well, thinking about it, I suppose all of them had been. Even Adrienne had been, when one would keep the matter of Christophe Rousseau at bay..

**pagebreak ~**

When I woke up, my body ached all over. Disorientated, I sat up and searched the darkness for a point of recognition. When at last, after five minutes or so, my eyes had adjusted to the night, I recognized my surroundings. I was still in the ballet studio, in fact even still on the same spot as I probably had fallen asleep after my ponderings.

I quickly stood from the floor and smoothed out my dress. God knows for how long I had been sleeping! I moaned as I held my neck painfully, as the muscles felt as if they had been torn apart. Tomorrow could only prove to be much worse, but I decided not to think of the aching too much. Instead, I made for the door.

All the corridors were, like the ballet studio, pitch black. The occasional window let in the tiniest beam of moonlight, but it was only enough to see the outlining of the hallways. Luckily, I had learned my way around the Opera House a bit and even without sunlight and candle light I easily found the route. On some occasions I stopped and turned around, swearing I had heard someone, only to realize then it must have been nothing more than my hazy mind making things up.

Arriving at the door, I stopped to catch my breath, before entering the dormitories. The beds formed a complicated maze and my own one just happened to be on the exact opposite of the room, in the far-end corner. Fortunately for me, though, everyone seemed sound asleep. I quickly shed off my clothes, put on my night gown and – while biting my lip to keep myself from calling out due to the pain – slipped under the warm bed sheets. I felt completely exhausted and it was due time to get some rest, for tomorrow's training and _madame_ Giry's cane wouldn't be easy on me if I didn't.


	40. Chapter 40

The next morning was.. painful. Not only were my arms, legs and pretty much every other part of my body awfully stiff, the lack of sleep also had my head pounding to the extent I considered just staying in bed for the day. However, the odds didn't seem to be in my favor.

'Angèlique, are you coming?'

I kept my eyes firmly closed, hoping whoever was there would simply leave if they thought I was asleep.

'Angèlique? Are you awake?' A tiny hand began to shake me forcefully. Adrienne, I should have known..

'I am now,' I grunted, hiding my face beneath my pillow, trying to keep out as much hurtful daylight as was physically possible. Somehow the soft bed sheets and pillow seemed like the perfect defense against _madame_ Giry and her cane.

'Well then, why are you still being such a pain then? We're running late, you know?'

'Go without me.' Was my simple solution.

'No! Angèlique, I swear to you, if you don't come out of bed this instant I will.. I will.. Well, frankly, I don't know what exactly it is I shall do, but you can count on it that it will be something horrible.'

'I'll take my chances,' I said, lazily turning around in my bed, before being hit by the pain that single movement caused me. 'Please, can't you see I am in a lot of pain?'

'All I can see is that you're being lazy and I will take no more of it.' And with that, the warm, safe haven of my blankets was torn away from me and I lay shivering on the matrass.

I moaned 'Adrienne, please_,_ don't be a martyr! I'm freezing!'

'Then pull your lazy self out of bed and put on some clothing!'

'Fine, fine..' I said, as I sat up and, with a lot of effort, pushed myself up. With my eyes still narrowed to slits, to guard off the garish light of day, I made my way towards the wardrobe, picked out a random dress and clumsily began putting it on. Behind me, I heard Adrienne cursing me under her breath for bringing _madame_ Giry's wrath upon her, but I didn't pay much attention to it. In normal circumstances surely I would have been surprised by her _colourful _vocabulary, but this morning I simply couldn't bring myself to care much about anything but going back to bed.

When finally, after what must have been ten minutes, I was dressed and looked tolerable, we left the dormitories.

'I am so hungry!' The redhead complained and as to prove her statement, held her hand against her tummy. 'If only you hadn't been so stubborn, we'd have had time to grab some breakfast.' With that, I received a very accusing look and I looked at the ground guiltily, my normal temper slowly coming back to me as I started to wake up.

'I'm sorry, I really am..'

'It's forgiven. But only if you will pick up your pace a little, so we might still be on time.'

**pagebreak ~**

'For the last time, Angèlique,, it's okay! Dear God, will you now stop apologizing?' Adrienne sighed, then took another spoonful of soup. Embarrassment for my behavior that morning hadn't left me and so, I had been showering the young girl with apologies for the entire length of the day. Even when the Prima Donna, La Carlotta, herself had been screaming at me for dancing on 'her part of the stage' I had been too absorbed in my endless flow of exculpations to really care about the flaring, Spanish temperament.

Marie-Claire, who had been watching the entire thing with utmost amusement, patted my back softly. 'I might be wrong, but I just have the slightest feeling you're off the hook.'

I laughed at that. 'Oh, be quiet you. You should know better than to make fun of me!'  
>'And why's that, then, my love? Because of your hot temper?' She teased.<p>

Before I could answer, though, Adrienne cut in. 'I highly doubt she has one. Although, my brother might, if he finds out about your pestering!'

Luckily, before the conversation could become any more uncomfortable, Anne spoke up. 'So Marie, have you and your _monsieur_ Lemoine already planned a day for your wedding?'

'In fact, we have yes. We settled on the third of March and decided to simply send my parents an invitation. Whether they will come or not will then be up to them.'

'Don't you think they will be.. well, furious because you haven't told them?' Meg inquired, carefully.

The soon-to-be bride merely shrugged her shoulders 'I do not care. It is not up to them to decide whom I shall marry. It is my life and Louis is the only man I would want to share it with.'

All of us knew at that moment that, in fact, it _was_ up to the parents to decide. No matter how unfair, that was the way things went in today's society. Young ladies simply had nothing to say in the matter. However, wisely no one said anything about it and we let the matter pass. Instead, we decided to talk about more cheerful stuff, leaving both Marie-Claire's as my love life at peace.

The remaining part of dinner conversation was about the latest fashion in Paris, the production we were currently working on and gossip about the Prima Donna, several members of the orchestra and every other unfortunate soul who was deemed out of the ordinary and therefore means of ridicule.

Although I did not particularly like gossiping, nor the mindless chattering about fashion trends and the like, I was very much content to have the attention shifted away from my own private life to something much less intrusive. I had needed this, I realized, for it had been long since I had felt completely at ease among the other girls. The never-ending stream of questions about whatever was going on between _monsieur_ Rousseau and myself, my secrets concerning a certain Ghost, even the strange dreams I'd been having ever since I could remember made me feel like an outsider, like I somehow didn't belong. But now, I could finally breathe. And it felt good.


	41. Chapter 41

_That night I dreamt of darkness and dungeons, of whispering shadows and cries in the night. I dreamt of intoxicating melodies and haunting hymns. I felt the horrible emptiness of being alone in the world, the poisonous effect of love and the sweet madness which comes after losing the one thing which makes life worth living._

_Suddenly, the music stopped and everything grew dark. Candles went out, the night grew colder and I found myself enclosed in my own tomb. I knew this feeling would kill me, sooner or later, and I found I didn't care. The world could end tonight for all I cared, as long as it would take me down with it. Sounds and voices could be made out in the distance. Ugly, angry voices, screaming and chanting for a justice that they would never find. Not down here at least. All that was left here were broken memories and haunting images._

_I was ready to die. I felt it in my bones, I felt it in the air I breathed in. I wanted nothing more than to escape from the world that had always hated me. However, as their steps grew closer, their voices louder, I knew that if I didn't move that instant, they would find me and the curtains would fall. Forever. And although that was what I wanted, it felt wrong. Not today, I decided. Not like this. If I'd die, I'd die from my own broken heart, from the pain she has caused me, not by the hand of an angry mob. The little dignity I have still left after a life of humiliation, I would keep, and I would not let myself be exposed once again to the world that had ridiculed and tormented me for the many long years of my life._

_I sighed and gave my once beloved house – now only a shadow of what it once was – a last look. Grabbing one of the chandeliers by the base, I smashed the mirror closest to me with force, then the next one and the next, until at last I stopped before one of the many curtains adorning my house. Moving it aside, I found another mirror, which, after it shattered under the force of the chandelier, revealed one of the many secret passageways throughout the Opera. I dropped the chandelier and stepped into the narrow passage, allowing the curtain to fall back into its original place, effectively blocking the secret corridor from view._

It was at that moment, I woke up. Sitting up, I rubbed my eyes and ran a hand through my hair. The moon still stood high in the sky and I wondered what could have woken me at such an early hour. I lay down again and pulled the covers up to my chin. Whatever it had been, it was gone now and I might as well try to get some sleep now I could. It was no use pondering about things I could not remember. Turning on my side, I let out a sigh. All questions would have to wait until the morning, when bright daylight would perhaps shed some new light on the situation.

**pagebreak ~**

'Do you ever think of her?' I asked suddenly, putting down the book I had been trying to focus on. The question had been plaguing my consciousness for several weeks, but I had never dared to voice it. Seeing now was no worse than any other time, I had finally decided to take my chances.

The Phantom sighed and stared into the fire for a good long time, until at last I concluded that he wouldn't answer anymore at all. It was at that moment he spoke, sounding both bitter and sad. 'Every single day.. Not one goes by when I do not think of what could have been, of how my life could have turned out, if only..' He sighed once more. 'I thought I was so close to salvation, that she would be the redemption of my soul.. Well, let us just say I couldn't possibly have been more wrong.'

'I am truly sorry for you,' I said softly, noticing how his mood had visibly dropped. 'I apologize, I shouldn't have asked.' Then, in an attempt to lighten the atmosphere 'Do you want me to show you how the song goes? I have heard you play it several times – don't even try to deny it, I am not a crazy woman, you know! Anyways, you never had them quite right with the melody.'

'I did not play..' He sighed, then smiled sadly in defeat. 'Very well, I would very much like to, _mademoiselle_.'

'Call me Angèlique.'

He looked aghast for a moment, but then nodded. It was at that moment I noticed my mistake. Or was it? Thinking about it, I couldn't understand why I had asked him to. I mean, I had been acquainted with _monsieur_ Rousseau, too, but still I refused to call him anything but _'monsieur'_. Why was it then that I had asked The Phantom, also an acquaintance – no, we hadn't even been on friendly terms for most of the time that I had known him – to call me by my first name?

This was different, a part of my brain argued, the Phantom is a friend!

And _monsieur_ Rousseau isn't, another, more rational part argued. Hasn't he been nothing but kind to you? Hasn't he invited you over at Christmas? Hasn't he taken you out for lunch multiple times? How does that not count as being a friend?

Fine, fine, I sighed, knowing the sensible part of my mind was right, yet not being able to explain my feelings.

I shook my head and pushed the mental battle aside, deciding it would do me no good to ponder over the matter for the remainder of the night. For now it would do to just rejoice over the progress we had made since the beginning. He hadn't tried to kill me, which was an absolute plus, I liked to think. To think of it, he hadn't lost his temper with me at all when I inquired after Christine. Oh he had disliked my asking, for sure, but he hadn't lunged at me like I had actually expected him to. Yes, it was indeed a rather nice progress we were making and, although I still couldn't quite grasp why I did, I wanted it very much to continue. Suddenly, another problem presented itself to me, this one a much more practical one. 'Eh _monsieur_?'

'Yes, _mademoiselle_?'

'It's Angèlique,' I smiled, then continuing with a frown 'I have never been mastered the art of writing music, so I am afraid I cannot write the melody down in musical notes.'

'Can you sing it yourself?'

I nodded, hesitantly.

'Then I don't see a problem.'

'Very well, just.. just don't expect much of it. I am a dancer, remember, not a singer.'

He nodded and gestured with his hand for me to begin.

Clearing my throat, I quickly searched for the familiar tune and then, when I had the first words remembered, I opened my mouth. '_Histoire éternelle. Qu'on ne croit jamais, de deux inconnus qu'un geste imprévu, rapproche en secret…_' My voice sounded far from perfect. It was shaking, the pitch was far from desirable and worst of all, I found myself several times crossing the border of my vocal range, making it not only sound bad, but also out of tune. When I finished, I opened my eyes – not remembering when I closed them – and fixed my glare on the floor. I decided I did not want to see his face after what must have been the worst performance he had ever had to witness.

An uncomfortable silence followed, until at last he spoke. 'You were right, you _are _a dancer. However, you have a pleasant voice which, although not suited for the opera, is not a punishment to hear.'

Although that first remark stung, I was glad he had had the decency – or at the very least the pity – not to chastise me any further about it. 'I well.. thank you, I suppose.. So, did you write that down? I mean, I don't think either of us would survive, were I to sing it again.' I laughed nervously.

He smiled, too. 'Oh there will be no need for that, I assure you. I have locked it inside my brain, which is the only real place I have to write it down into.'

'But surely you must have some sheet music you use when you play?'

'I have it, yes, but I use them mainly when I am still working on a new piece. I find humans these days are too dependent of their things. So much even, that they forget they could achieve the very same goal on their own, without any assistance of a device. I could find my way through the entire Opera House in the dark, you know, without ever having to think twice, simply because I had to learn how. But people.. people use maps, they use torches, they use whatever they find what will make it easier. But when they're alone, when their support fails, they are nothing.' He stared off into the fire again, seeming as if he had simply forgotten I was there. 'Then they are nothing.'


	42. Chapter 42

It was a nice, sunny Sunday afternoon. Although it was still quite chill outside, I took great pleasure in feeling the sunbeams tingle against my face, almost like a soft touch. Winter was slowly drawing to an early end, as it was only halfway through February, but I myself hadn't wanted it any different. I adored the beautiful sights winter presented us with, with the snow covered landscapes and the snow crystals falling from the sky. But apart from that, no, I would not miss the winter at all.

Around me, the park was beginning to breathe in life again. Birds returned, squirrels woke up from their hibernation and people started coming out of their houses again. Life slowly returned to Paris.

'How I enjoy just being able to breathe in the fresh outdoor air.'

I nodded in agreement and looked at him as he closed his amber eyes and took a deep breathe. He indeed looked very much in place here and I could hardly imagine him behind a desk going through dusty papers. He truly was a man of the world in both heart and soul.

As we moved on, I let my mind wander about the last half year. I had never dared to hope that I would even make it into the Ballet Corpse, but yet here I was. I had made friends, even had become a part of a new family. It was really crazy how much one's life could change in just the course of six months.

Suddenly I realised we had come to a halt again and, looking up, I found we were back at the Opera. I was slightly confused, as it was only a little bit past three. Normally we wouldn't return until at least five. 'Is something wrong, _monsieur?_'

He looked at me with a conflicted face, down at his shoes and then at me once more. 'I am leaving for business. Thursday morning. I am not sure when I will return. But, I wanted to ask you something. I don't know how to say this, but you have no idea of the pleasure it brings me to spend these afternoons with you. Our talks, our laughs. It made me realise I miss something in my life. Someone to come home to. Someone to talk with over dinner. Someone to sit at the fire with, sharing tea and talking about our day. Therefore I wanted to ask you, Angèlique, when I return, would you allow me to court you?'

I stood completely silent for a few, long seconds. He looked at me expectantly, every second ticking by making it harder and harder to find the will to say something at all. I felt horrible when I saw _his_ face fall, but couldn't bring myself to reach out. 'I am sorry,' I whispered and turned on my heels. Without saying another word I fled through the double doors, leaving monsieur Rousseau standing by himself, a look of hurt and confusion written on his face.

**pagebreak ~**

I don't know for how long I had been sitting there when he found me. At first I thought it was just my imagination making up the sound of footsteps, but then I heard him sigh and felt a warm cloth cover my shoulders. It was a warmth I gladly welcomed, as my feet were already starting to get numb from the cold wind.

He sat down beside me and I pulled the cloak closer to my body, savouring the ardour it gave me as I gazed out on Paris. I waited for him to say something, _anything_, but after a few minutes realized he wasn't going to. I appreciated that.

I thought back on the day, coming to the conclusion once again that I had been terribly rude and improper. Yet, somehow I still couldn't think of something I could have said or done instead, because frankly, I did not know what to think about the whole courting thing. No, that was not it; I knew exactly what I thought about it. And that was the problem.. Yes, I thought very highly of _monsieur_ Rousseau and yes, I think any woman would be lucky to marry a man such as him. He was agreeable, charming, a real gentleman in every aspect of the word. Not to mention he was handsome, rich.. And yet, I couldn't accept him.

Perhaps such a fine option would never present itself to me again, a more rational part of my brain argued once again. I was in no position to be picky, after all, so perhaps it would be better to accept a man I could not love over a man I could not tolerate. Or worse; no man at all. I sighed. 'Phantom, I made a horrible mess out of things today,' I confessed, more to myself than to the man who was seated next to me.

'Yes, I know..'

'You do? What.. How?' I turned to him, my brows knitted together in confusion.

He looked at the ground and shifted his hands a couple of times, after stuffing them in the pockets of his vest. 'Well, you were standing by the Opera after all..'

'You were spying on me?!'

'No! But I just happened to pick up on your conversation when I was making my rounds..' He said, his voice dying down towards the end of the sentence.

'So you were!'

'Absolutely not, what a preposterous idea!'

I couldn't contain my laughter anymore and shook my head. 'Oh, my dear friend, please do not think I mean to ridicule you. I merely think its endearing that you look out for me.'

**The Phantom's point of view**

He looked at her curiously as she laughed. Had she really just called him her friend? Just like that, just like he was.. normal. The words still rang in his ears, yet he doubted. Perhaps his mind played tricks on him.

Before he could ask, however, the smile disappeared off of her face and in place came the frown again. 'Should I do it?' She looked at him expectantly, as if he would know the answer to such a question. He, who had only known misery and heartache in love, who had not known the meaning of the word until he took his protégé under his wing. He wanted to scoff, but after looking at her desperate face, decided not to.

Instead, he sighed. 'I really do not know the answer to that question_, mademoiselle, _only you do. I would say it's very simple a matter: if you love him, you marry the man, if you don't, you won't.'

She shifted in his cloak and looked down on the city again. 'That's the thing, _monsieur_. I don't. But if I don't accept him, who else would have me? I'd rather have a man that is nice to me, that I can live in one house with, but not love, than one I cannot stand at all. I have no fortune, no money at all. Honestly, who else would take me?'

'A man who loves you?'

She threw her hands up to the sky and then shook her head. 'But what if I would not love him? _Monsieur_ Rousseau is as good a man as any other, even better. Yet, I cannot bring myself to like him any more than one would like a friend.'

He smirked at her outburst, knowing himself full well the horror that love could be. 'Dear girl, why don't you just send him a letter and explain to him that you feel only for him like a friend would. I don't think he could take any offense by that, do you?'

She seemed to contemplate that idea for a moment, then nodded. 'I think I shall, thank you.'

He mentally laughed at himself, seeing the irony of it all. Since when did the Phantom of the Opera meddle in the business of teenage girls? Since when did he help them with their love lives when it was a teenage girl who had destroyed his? An answer unasked for presented itself to him and he clenched his teeth and stood straight. 'I must go.' With that, he turned and escaped the roof.

**Angélique's point of view**

I stared at his retreating form, wondering if I could have said something wrong. When no credible answer came to mind, I decided to just put it off as one of those things he sometimes does. He was, after all, the Phantom of the Opera. Doesn't that mean he sometimes has to do strange disappearances and grand entrees? I smiled at the mental image of him. He liked to think of himself so much as the Phantom, of a fright, a ghost. But when he'd just allow himself to be at ease, to be himself, he had the potential to be so much more.

I sighed and, shaking my head, scrambled to my feet. It was getting late and I'd better get back before the others got worried. I straightened the hem of my dress and it was then that I realized I still had the heavy black cloak wrapped around my shoulders. I looked around, but knew the Phantom would be long gone. I would have to return it to him later, I decided, and until then would cherish its warmth as much as I could.


	43. Chapter 43

I neatly folded the letter and slipped it into the envelope. Dipping my quill once more in the ink, I wrote the name and address on the front and sealed it. I sighed. When I had started writing, it had been three o'clock and now I could feel my stomach rumbling for dinner.

I wasn't completely satisfied with the result of those wasted hours, but on the other hand didn't know what I could do to make it better. There seemed to be no striking the golden mean in this case, no possible way in which I could walk the tightrope. I'd either tell _monsieur_ Rousseau the truth and in doing so, possibly offend him and make him wish never to speak to me again, or I could be polite, but at the same time perhaps not make my affections – or rather lack thereof – towards him clear enough.

I'd post it tomorrow, I decided. Today had been strenuous and I was in need of some relaxation. Standing from the chair, I gathered my things and blew out the candle that had illuminated my struggles. With my letter, quill and ink under my arm, I quietly left the library.

After having dropped off my things in the dormitories, I made my way back to the dining hall, only to find the others already sitting at the tables. I provided myself with some potatoes, carrots and some chicken, before sitting down next to Adrienne, who appeared to be having some sort argument with Meg.

'All I am saying is that I just don't understand what kind of mother wouldn't..-'

'Adrienne, can we not talk about this, please?' Meg said, her voice strained as if she had to physically make an effort not to lash out against the young girl. 'My mother is my mother and no matter what she did, I love her.'

'I know that, but…-'  
>'Not now, sweetie, just let it go,' Anne interfered. Speaking about Meg's mother wasn't the best thing one could do. I mean, she was the best teacher a ballerina could hope for and I truly think she tried to be the best mother for Meg as well, but after… Well, after the fire, after all those things she kept hidden from Meg, I guess it's difficult not to feel some resentment towards the woman. Resentment I was sure her daughter felt as well. Let's just say that more things broke down along with the Opera House after the fire.<p>

I started prodding my potatoes again, once in a while popping a piece of meat or a carrot in my mouth while listening as the subject changed from Meg to the latest fashion and I could finally let out the breath I didn't know I had been holding.

**The Phantom's point of view**

He stared down into the hearth fire before him, occasionally poking the incinerating logs as if they were to blame for the tumult his mind was currently in. It had been foolish, idiotic really, to let the girl come so close. The moment she had called him her friend, he had already felt it; A strange sensation, a stirring within his chest. He had vowed never to let anyone in again, yet now he came to the conclusion he already had, unconsciously. Somehow she had found a way to sneak in unnoticed, to make him let his guard down, and had settled herself comfortably beneath his skin. The moment the word had passed her lips, it had dawned upon him. He was her friend. For all this time he had been treating her nicely, as a friend – he had even given her advice about her love life! – and yet he had been blind to it, until now.

He had lost track of the times he had stood from his armchair at the fire, opened the entrance to his secret passages and travelled up. Then, when he would almost reach the surface, the folly of his behaviour would dawn on him and he would return to the fireplace, only to repeat the actions again after an hour or so.

The great grandfather clock chimed the hour somewhere in the background. Ten o'clock. It had been one of the first things he had rebuild after the fire, something he still found quite ironic since time meant so little to him. The sound of the clock comforted him in some way though, as it was a conscious reminder of the fact that he was still alive – although he still wasn't sure whether that was a good or a bad thing.

He poked the fire one more time, then put the poker back in its holder and stood straight again. After having smoothed out his dressing coat, he opened the entrance to his private corridors once more and disappeared into the darkness. It didn't take him long to travel up to the surface; the Opera was mapped out in his mind and he could identify each corner, each turn easily. However, his mind had become swarmed with doubts once again and he was about to turn around when he heard it. He wasn't sure what _it _exactly was, but he was sure to find out. Changing directions quickly, he reached inside his robe and took a firm hold of his Punjab lasso. Whoever would have entered his secret corridors would have to pay for it with their lives.

**Angélique's point of view**

I sighed as I turned onto my other side once more. Sleep would not come to me that night. Thoughts about the letter, currently tucked safely underneath some books in my side table, kept invading my mind. Was it very wrong of me to not want to lose him, even when I rationally knew that I could never offer him what he wanted? I suppose it was. _Monsieur_ Rousseau was a good man, who deserved much more than that. He might be my only chance of ever marrying that well, but he… Well, he would surely have lots of other options. All very beautiful girls, no doubt. And rich, too. I doubted he would have much trouble finding himself a girl that would be able to love him.

I switched positions again, this was hopeless. I could lie awake until the sun would start its trek into the sky once more, but what good would that do? I sat up, rubbed my eyes and slipped my feet in some flats. Tiptoeing to my wardrobe, I quietly pushed some of my dresses aside to reveal a velvet black robe. I had stuffed it into the back of my wardrobe the other day, too afraid to neatly hang it with my dresses, in case someone would notice and ask questions about it. I wasn't too sure about how short the Phantom was of money, but I might as well return it now. I didn't have anything else to do anyway.

Making sure I would not disturb anyone in their sleep, I zigzagged through the beds and pulled the door silently shut behind me. I let out the breathe I had been holding and flattened out my night gown. It was only then I realized I was still wearing it and I already reached out for the door knob when I stopped myself. Going back in, changing and then making my way out _again_ would make far too much noise and chances that someone would wake up and catch me would be fairly large. Besides, I would only return the robe, then would be on my way to bed again. I doubt the Phantom would even notice what I was wearing, even if it were day and I would be wearing nothing but my undergarments.

I laughed silently at that thought, knowing it full well to be true. The Phantom was well.. I guess one could say he was a secluded man. He was too busy with his books and his music to notice anything else going on in the world. I liked that though, because it made him different, it made him real. His speeches weren't just mindless chatter, but every word he emitted seemed to be carefully weighed and measured.

By the time I had found my way to the ballet studio, I had wrapped the borrowed robe around my shoulders. Although spring was starting to set in, the nights were still cold and the numerous corridors of the Opera House poorly heated. After checking the room for any life, I slipped through the crack and let the door fall into its lock behind me. Now, all I had to do was find the hidden switch that would open the mirror. It should be simple, as I had been on this spot many times before and had seen the Phantom turn the switch every time. However, I had never actually paid attention to the exact position of the thing, as I had never before had seen the use of knowing it. I knew the Phantom would bring me to the private library anytime I wanted.

I felt around on the cool, smooth surface of the first mirror, but nothing seemed to be out of the ordinary. To reach the top of the mirror I had to stand on my toes and even then the tips of my fingers barely grazed the top of it. In this way – and at a deadly slow rate – I felt my way around several mirrors, until finally my fingers met with something else than smooth glass. It didn't feel like more than just a small nail sticking out, but I decided I didn't have much to lose. Fifteen minutes of touching mirrors hadn't given me anything better to work with, after all.

Suddenly, I felt the mirror beneath my fingers spur into motion and before I knew it, it had completely vanished behind one of the others. If I had not known the trick by now, I too would still believe that it was some sort of magic. In reality however, the switch would force the mirror to change positions due to some mechanical device. The Phantom had once tried to explain his brilliant invention to me, but as a person who had never had any education in physics, I'd already lost him at the beginning of the story. I'd let him continue however, as I could easily see how proud he was of it.

Glancing behind me once more, I took a deep breath and stepped into the corridor. As soon as I took another step forward, my left foot hit something small and all of the sudden I found myself in complete darkness. Spinning around, I blindly reached out my arms, but my fingertips met with the cool surface of the mirror. I must have hit the switch to close it, I realized. It took my eyes several minutes to adjust to the darkness and even then, I could barely make out my hands if I held them in front of my face.

'Shit,' I cursed under my breathe and searched for the other wall, so I wouldn't run face first into it. A candle would have been nice, I thought bitterly. Or any clue as to which way to go, for that matter. I sighed, I really should have thought this entire plan through.

On good luck, I turned left and, slowly and carefully, made my way down the corridor. It was more difficult than it had seemed when the Phantom had guided me; there were several unexpected height differences in the floor and sometimes parts of the floor would go missing altogether. I managed reasonably well though, as I made it without much more than some scrapes and a bit of dirt cloaking the hem of my gown.

It was then, however, that a strange sensation crept up at me and I stopped dead in my tracks. I looked around, but was of course met with nothing but darkness. I waited several more seconds, but when nothing happened, I turned around and continued the road.

'What do you think you are doing, for God's sake?!'

I stepped back in fear. And that's when my feet were met with nothing but air.


	44. Chapter 44

'Hold still,' he said through clenched teeth as he examined my hand.

When I fell, he had caught me before any real harm could be done. However, in the process of trying to save myself, I had gotten my right hand full of splinters. Without saying a word he had pulled me along with him towards the library, where he'd sat me down in one of the armchairs. And that is where we were at now, still in silence, apart from the short order he had just given me. I dared not to defy him and therefore just let it be.

After he had removed all splinters from my hand – a hellish sensation on its own – he presented a small bottle and a handkerchief from somewhere inside his robe and wetted the white cloth. The liquid had a strong smell that burnt the insides of my nose. Alcohol, I realised. Probably to disinfect the wound.

I flinched as he pressed the handkerchief against the open wounds, giving off the sensation as if one was rubbing salt into them.

'I said, hold still,' the Phantom spoke brusquely and pulled my hand back onto his lap. He picked up the cloth again and all-but-gently started cleansing the grazes again.

'That hurts,' I cried out, suppressing the urge to pull away as he moved to disinfect my hand once more. I knew they were only some scratches, but couldn't just ignore the throbbing pain of the wounds. Also, his silent, judgemental demeanor made me angry, for it wasn't my fault I had gotten injured in the first place. At that moment however, I knew I shouldn't have complained.

He put down the cloth and looked at me with blazing eyes. 'If you would hold still as I told you to, it wouldn't hurt as much.'

'If you wouldn't be so rough with me, I would hold still,' I countered, pulled my arm out of his grasp and stood from my chair in defiance. I had had it with his terrible manners. God awful man thought he held some sort of authority over me.

'I wouldn't be, if you hadn't been running around places you shouldn't be.'

'Nothing would have gone wrong if you hadn't frightened me.'

'Well, you shouldn't be in those corridors, they're dangerous.' He said, also standing and taking a stance opposite of me. He was throwing daggers at me with his eyes and took a minacious step forward. Fear blossomed in my chest, but for once I didn't let myself be run over.

'Well you should learn to control your temper!'

The Phantom opened his mouth, closed it again and repeated the action at least three more times. I looked as his face turned from anger, to realisation and then an emotion I couldn't quite place. It looked like guilt, but I couldn't be quite sure.

In that moment my own anger subsided as well and made place for a feeling of contentment and I laid my unwounded hand on his arm. 'Thank you.'

'For what?'

'Saving me. I suppose I would have been far worse off had you not been there to catch me.'

'You're welcome.' He then looked down at my other hand and sighed 'Will you now please let me disinfect that before we'll have to amputate it?'

**pagebreak ~**

'Angèlique, wake up!'

Sleepily, I pulled up the blankets to cover my face. I wasn't quite ready to leave bed just yet. Just a few more minutes.. I rolled over to my side, nestling myself comfortably in my own warm, private, heaven.

'Angèlique, come on, I don't want to be late!' In that moment, the covers were pulled off of me and I lay cold and exposed. And shivering. Life could be so cruel. I tried pulling the covers back, but couldn't find them and then reluctantly opened my eyes. On my left side stood Meg, an aggravated look on her face and my blankets in her hands. She tapped her foot on the floor impatiently. 'Today, please.'

'Right, right, I'm on it,' I mumbled and pulled myself out of bed. Sitting up, I smoothed my hair out with my hand and looked around the dormitories in a disorientated way. Something seemed off, but I couldn't figure out what it was. Deciding however that it wouldn't be good to keep Meg waiting any longer, I quickly went to my wardrobe and pulled on a pastel coloured dress with some matching slippers. It didn't matter what I'd wear anyway, since I would change in my ballet costume right after breakfast.

When we arrived at the dining hall, we quickly spotted the others – what with Adrienne's red hair – and joined them at their table. After saying our "_Bonjour's" _I got both me and Meg some toast, marmalade and some freshly squeezed jus d'orange. Taking a bite from my toast, I finally began to feel somewhat alive again. Yet, I still couldn't shake off the feeling that I was missing something..

'Dear heavens Angèlique, what happened to your hand?'

I furrowed my brows and looked at the blonde girl confused, then down at my hand. Both the skin of the flat of my hand as the rest of it was red and was torn in several places, giving it an overall scary look. Then it clicked in my mind and I had to make sure I wouldn't choke on the piece of toast I was consuming. 'Oh this, nothing. I mean, it's stupid, really.' I laughed uncomfortably, trying to come up with a plausible lie as I was talking. 'You see, yesterday evening, I couldn't sleep and then I had to pee real badly. So I got up and along the way to the bathroom, I tripped and fell and blocked my fall with my hand.' I cringed on the inside because of how bad it sounded, but knew there was nothing I could do about it anymore.

For a moment, silence dawned on our table and I was afraid someone would call me out on my lie. But then Adrienne –praise Adrienne! – burst out in laughter. 'Oh dear, you are so clumsy! It is truly a miracle that you have never tripped on stage and fallen into the orchestra pit.'

'Indeed, although I dare say I do not want to stand next to you anymore. You know, just in case,' Marie-Claire joined her.

I faked a hurt face, but internally let out my breathe. Looking down at my hand again, I frowned again. Images of last night came floating back to the surface. Some of which I'd rather not thought about, some which caused me to smile. But there was one thing that bothered me; the last thing I could remember was the Phantom talking to me about… well, frankly I couldn't even quite remember what it was he'd been talking about. It had been early in the morning and drowsiness had crept up on me as we sat in the comfortable, plush armchairs in front of the fireplace. So how had I gotten from there to waking up in my bed in the dormitories? I had to be honest with myself, there was only one solution that didn't involve magic or mysterious amnesia and that was that the Phantom must have carried me back. However, the fact that it was the only logical solution didn't mean it was one that I was ready to embrace just yet. I mean, although we were on relatively good terms at the moment, the fact that someone had carried me made me feel somewhat uncomfortable. Not just for the invasion of my privacy, but also because it made me dependent of someone. Dependent of a man, no less. The thought alone made me cringe on the inside.

Fortunately, I didn't get much time to dwell on it, for as soon as we'd finished our breakfast we were off to ballet practice. Dancing always seemed to raise my spirits, no matter the situation. The week end had been extremely out of the normal and I was glad to finally strap my pointe shoes on again and do the thing I loved so much.

After having stretched and warmed up, I took my position next to Meg and revelled in the first notes coming from the orchestra pit. A shudder of delight went down my spine and I couldn't help but smile as I pulled my body in the first position. Oh how much I had needed this.

**~**

**So for everyone who has ever watched the Disney movie "Beauty and the Beast"; yes, I kind of "borrowed" the argument that Belle and Adam had. I did change the content of their arguments, but the structure of that conversation stayed pretty much the same. I don't know why, but I've always liked that part of the movie.  
><strong>


	45. Chapter 45

That afternoon, when we were back at the dining hall enjoying a well-earned_ croque-monsieur_ and were talking about the summer, I suddenly felt a soft tap against my arm. Looking up, I found Anne looking at me with a troubled expression.

'Can we talk? Privately?' she asked me, in a low voice and with a significance behind her words that I did not understand.

I nodded, confused and was about to stand up when _madame_ Giry suddenly marched into the hall. Occasionally accompanied by the pounding sound of her wooden cane making contact with the tiling, her footsteps made their way over to our table, where they came to a sudden halt.

_'Mademoiselle_ Fournier_, _will you come with me, please?'

Unsure, I looked at the others, then up to meet her face. 'Yes, sure, _madame_.' Standing from the bench, I quickly swallowed down the last piece of toast and straightened out my skirt. One last apologizing look at Anne and we were off.

For the entirety of the way _madame_ Giry didn't speak a word to me and I began to doubt whether it really had been her design to have me trailing behind her. Another possibility, one that I'd rather not think about, was that I was in so much trouble that she was still thinking about the most effective way to hit me with her cane. It was only when we reached _madame's_ personal chambers that she spoke two simple words 'Please, sit.'

Still not sure of the meaning behind our meeting, I decided it would be best not to give her any more reason for scolding me and sat down swiftly in one of the armchairs. Folding my hands in my lap, I looked at her expectantly. 'You wished to speak with me, _madame_?'

'Yes.. I hope this won't make you feel uncomfortable, but I am worried about Meg..'

As she sat down in the other chair, I saw her as a real person – a real mother – for the very first time. Gone was the sternness of a seasoned ballet mistress, gone was the overly perfectionistic professional. Now sitting in front of me was a desperate, concerned mother.

'What causes your worries, if I may ask so?'

'She is acting strange lately. Being distracted at practice, slipping up on parts that should pose no problem for her, and when I talk to her she seems distant. The other day she even stood up in the middle of our conversation and left. I haven't the slightest idea what's gotten into her head these days, but as her mother, I am worried. And I thought you, as her friend, might be able to tell me more.'

I nodded understandingly and carefully weighed my next words, neither wanting to sound too bold nor too outspoken. 'Do you think it might have something to do with the eh.. events concerning _mademoiselle_ Daeé?'

She looked at me curiously for a moment 'I don't know how you've learned about the… _incidents_ that happened, for it happened quite some time before you came here, but to answer your question, no I don't. I am sure it must have been hard for her, losing her best friend, but it wasn't for long before she made new ones.'

'_Madame_, pardon me, but I think that you are not seeing the full extent to which the events might have affected her. Much more important than losing a friend, is losing one's trust in a mother. With all due respect, _madame_ Giry, but I think that you made the wrong decision by deciding to keep her in the dark about.. well, about everything really. You knew what was going on, you knew what would happen and in Meg's eyes, you could have prevented it. But you didn't.'

The older lady looked at me with an empty complexion, then she simply nodded. 'Thank you, Angèlique. Although that wasn't the answer I was hoping for, it was the one I needed. I am sorry to have kept you from your lunch and your friends, you may return to them if you want.'

'Alright_, madame_. I hope you and Meg will work through this,' I said, then stood and made for the door. However, when my hand met the cool surface of the door knob, she called me back.

'Oh Angèlique?'

'Yes?'

I watched as she opened a drawer in her desk and pulled out two white envelopes. 'These arrived for you this morning, here.'

Taking the letters from her, I quickly curtsied and left the room, one of the envelopes burning in my hand. I decided it would not do to go back to the dining hall, since most of the girls would probably be gone by now and if they were not, they would only want to know about my letters – one in particular. Therefore, I changed directions and made for Box Five.

**pagebreak ~**

That evening, I made straight for the dormitories after dinner. Although I had been too occupied with my own thoughts to busy myself much with the others, I did notice that Meg was absent. Perhaps _madame _Giry had decided to try and mend their relationship before more damage could occur. I had held off the questions about my conversation with the ballet mistress, telling them only that she needed my help on a personal matter. After all, it really wasn't my business. They had left me alone after that, quickly picking up the signals that I wasn't in the mood for conversation. Anne had, once again, reminded me of the 'thing' she wanted to discuss with me, but I had persuaded her to speak about it with me in the morrow.

As I changed into my night gown, I thought about the first letter. It had been from my mother and truly hadn't contained any useful information. Just some tittle-tattle about the shop, about little Madeleine and some gossip about our neighbours. I had needed it though, for it was easy to forget about the entire world outside the Opera House when all one did was dance, eat and sleep.

The second letter, however, wasn't full of pleasantries. Although _monsieur_ Rousseau was of course nothing but charming and friendly, there were certain subjects that had to be breached. One of them was my rejection, for instance. He had been full of understanding of and respect for my choice, but the words still echoed through my head. "_I will take this pain and carry it as best as I can. For although my head has come to accept your decision, my heart still needs its time. Perhaps therefore it is for the best that I go abroad for business and then return to you as a friend, and solely a friend. Fear not that I think badly of you, my dear friend, for I still hold you in the highest regard and would be honoured if you would still accept me when I return. Forever yours sincerely, Christophe._"

His words had been daggers to my own heart and I was sure he could not have said anything that would have wounded me more. His kindness felt like poison in my veins, making my entire body ache with self-contempt. I could have handled his scorn, his despise, even his anger, but this.. This courtesy made me feel like a worst person ever to exist. I did not deserve his friendship, let alone should he beg me for mine.

Rolling onto my back, I stared at the ceiling, then through the small window to the night sky. A soft melody reached my ears and before I knew it, all thoughts had vanished and I fell into a deep, blissful world of nothingness.


	46. Chapter 46

**The Phantom's point of view**

Sitting at his organ, the Opera Ghost placed his fingers on the familiar keys and for a moment simply relished in the feel of them. Playing an instrument gave one power, it put you in control. The organ was like clay in his hands and he could do whatever he wanted, whatever he could think of with it.

As it was, however, that wasn't so much. His usual talent to create compositions that could make angels cry, had abandoned him. Ever since his own angel had left him, he had not been able to put a single melody down on paper.

Now all he was playing was that silly melody the ballerina – Angèlique, it still felt strange for him to refer to her by her first name – had taught him. It was simple, simple enough to teach a four year old, yet he couldn't help but play it over and over, as if it would somehow reveal its mysteries to him if only he kept playing. He had memorized the lyrics and now each time mentally sang them along.

It was quite ironic really that he had taken a liking to this particular song, he thought to himself bitterly. A story of a beautiful girl, who falls in love with a beast. Then they kiss and true love breaks the curse. It was only too obvious. He was the beast. Christine had been the beautiful girl. But true love's kiss didn't take away his deformities and in the end she ran away with the antagonist. Happy endings only come in children's stories and second chances don't happen to the cursed and the unloved. He sighed and turned away from the organ.

His eye fell onto his music box, that stood on the side table next to the organ. Or well… the girl's music box. His own music box had been taken away by the mob after the.. _incident_. He had become accustomed to this one as well, though, even had taken a liking to it.

Perhaps you like it so much because it gives you false hope of things ever getting better, one of the treacherous voices argued. Perhaps you like it so much, because you still want to believe that one day a woman will see past your monstrousness.

He shook his head 'That had nothing to do with it!'

Hasn't it, the voice countered. Then why haven't you ended it when you should have? Why have allowed this girl to come close to you then, if not for that?

He gritted his teeth. 'She'll never be Christine.'

But second best will do, won't it? After all, Christine isn't coming back. She only had to look at that pathetic excuse of a face of yours and she ran. And rightly so. Who could ever look upon you with anything but fear and loathing when even your own mother could not. So what do you plan to do when this girl will run, for you know she will. Will you hunt her down, will you strap her lover to your grate as you did the Vicomte?

'Be silent, you know nothing!' In his anger, he reached for the closest object he could get his hands on – the music box – and planned to fling it against the opposite wall. However, in mid swing he realized what he was about to do and, after a deep breath, lowered his arm and placed the innocent object back onto the table. He couldn't do it. Not while he knew how much it meant to her.

He lowered himself onto the armchair by the fire and, defeated, pinched his nose bridge with his thumb and index finger. He would not let the past repeat itself.

**Angélique's point of view**

That Sunday at lunch, it was quieter than I could ever remember it being. Even when there were twice as many people – given the fact that normally everyone went to town or visit relatives – the silence that wrapped around us was unbearable.

Marie-Claire had been a friend to everyone. She had been stubborn, loud and a bit exuberant at times, but I couldn't think of any reason why anyone would dislike her. Therefore it felt almost wrong to sit at our normal place in the dining hall, to talk with the same people, about the same things but then.. well, there was an empty spot. Adrienne didn't have anyone to gossip with, or to discuss the latest fashion with. We all just there.

The morning had been filled with a lot of laughter, smiles, well-wishings and, at last, adieus. After the front door had fallen back into its lock, all mirth had vanished. Instead, we were left with an empty, painful feeling that seemed to distance us from each other. So after the last traces of our friend seemed to have dissolved into thin air, we slowly retreated to the dining hall and placed ourselves silently on the wooden benches. Nobody spoke a word, nobody dared as much as pick up their forks, in case it would somehow produce unwanted sounds. On our table, we had preserved Marie-Claire's usual spot, out of habit but most of all because it was a habit we weren't yet ready to break. Saying goodbye was hard, but having to realize she really wasn't coming back was even harder.

'Well.. at least we'll see her again next Sunday at the wedding,' Anne said, sounding more like she was trying to raise her own spirits than actually trying to start conversation. If that had been her goal though, it wasn't much of a success.

Looking up, I suddenly came to the conclusion we missed one person – or well, two if you counted Marie-Claire. 'Where's Meg?'

Suddenly, it was as if everyone snapped out of a daze and looked around for the first time. Forks were put down after twenty minutes of aimlessly holding it, eyes started blinking again and for the first time after Marie had left, it felt like the walls between us had dropped.

'I don't know really, I thought she was with us in the foyer,' Anne admitted.

'She was, I am sure, I saw her hugging Marie,' Adrienne said, confidently nodding her head.

'But then why isn't she here?'

Silence ensued and for a moment I thought we had lost Meg. Again. But then, unexpected, a soft, wavering voice came with the answer. 'She's with madame Giry. I saw them retreat together after we said farewell this morning.'

I had to try my hardest not to gape at the girl in my surprise of hearing her speak, but then pulled myself together and even managed to put on a polite smile. 'Thank you… Veronique.' Stealing a quick glance of the faces of the others, I could see they, too, were surprised to hear a response come from the usually so silent dancer. I, for one, was happy to hear Meg was spending some time with her mother. She had needed it. And, as far as I could judge, _madame_ Giry had needed it, too. Perhaps they now finally got the chance to talk about the things that had driven them apart and were able to mend their relationship. If only they could get to see each other's side of things, I'm sure things would work out.

**pagebreak ~**

As I was about to get ready for bed that evening, I found a small note sitting on my side table. Curious, I took it and opened it to reveal only one small sentence. 'Meet me at the ballet studio.' I smiled. Having had an emotionally tiresome day, I was glad to find something to raise my spirits.

Quickly slipping back into a pair of shoes, I swiftly made my way to the door, making sure not to draw any attention. When I was in the hallway, I breathed a sigh of relief and then let my feet find the familiar path to the ballet studio. I was careful to avoid any busy hallways and even managed to dodge a group of ballet rats by hiding behind a decorative curtain. It was in this fashion that I finally arrived at the studio, feeling much more like a spy than a ballerina. Gazing left and right, I crossed the hallway and slipped through the crack between the door and the door post.

Closing the door, I leaned against it for a few moments, regaining my breath and my posture. It was only when I opened my eyes that I encountered a strange sight. On the floor, in front of the mirror sat another girl, about my height, with chocolate brown hair that hung in a loose braid on her back. She seemed familiar, yet I only recognized her when she turned her head to me.

'Not who you expected?' Anne guessed, then gestured for me to sit beside her.

Slowly, I walked up to her and sat down. I didn't say anything, yet I guess the question burning on my lips was clear to her, for she continued.

'I asked you to come here because there is something I need to ask you. Actually, it's not so much ask, as I know it to be true, but I must hear you say it, must hear you confirm it.' She looked down at her hands, which were folded in her lap, and I could literally see her mustering up all the courage she could find. 'Is it true that you are in some way involved with the Opera Ghost?'

I looked at her, shocked and… well, mainly just shocked. For a moment my mind seemed to go blank and all I could do was stare at her as if she had somehow grown two heads. Seconds ticked by in which I only sat there and in which she looked at me, expectantly. I wanted to run, wake up from the nightmare that now seemed to be reality. What would she do if I told her it was true? Would she hate me from being a friend to one who had caused so much misery to the inhabitants of the Opera? Would she turn him in to the police?

'Angèlique, please, answer me.'

I swallowed the lump in my throat, then returned my gaze to her expecting eyes. 'Yes.. it's true.'

A moment passed by before she made any sign of even having heard my answer, but then she nodded. 'Very well. Then my suspicions have been correct. I will not pass judgment on your choice to befriend him, nor will I ask you about the nature of your relationship with him, but I hope you know what you are doing.' She rose to her feet, then offered me her hand and pulled me up as well. 'Let us return to the dormitories, before we attract unwanted attention to ourselves.'

She was already at the door before I had fully registered what was going on, and called out to her. 'So, what will happen now?'

'I will not tell on you, if that's what you meant. We're friends, after all. But if someone asks, I will not lie for you either.'

I nodded, knowing full well that was all that I could ask of her. 'Thank you.'


	47. Chapter 47

The next week went by in a bit of a haze. We practiced for an upcoming performance, shopped for Marie-Claire's wedding and apart from that, not much happened.

Both Meg and her mother seemed to be in a considerably better mood – although of course that did not stop the ballet mistress from hitting you with her cane if she felt you weren't doing your absolute best.

I also came to the conclusion that having an Opera Ghost as your friend definitely has its advantages, as I – or rather la Carlotta – found out when the Prima Donna almost knocked me off my feet when she felt she wasn't given enough attention. She was about to scorn me for bumping into her (even when it really was her bumping into me) when suddenly one of the sandbags holding the décors came down, missing her by only an inch. The Prima Donna had screamed in terror, of course, especially when the décor piece which the sandbag had been holding up until now, dropped three feet as well. Nobody got hurt, though, and I was glad the Phantom had left it at that.

I had wanted to sneak out that night to thank him, but after seeing Anne's ever watchful eyes I refrained from pursuing that plan. Although she had kept her word of not telling on me, I could feel her eyes on me with every move I made. They seemed to dare me to cross the line. But I didn't. I waited the first few days patiently until her gaze softened and on Thursday I finally visited the hidden library again. Of course with the Phantom's help, for I had certainly learned my lesson about wandering around in the dark after the almost-accident.

'You're doing it again, you know?'

I looked up, confused. 'Doing what, exactly?'

'Staring, dreaming, drifting off to your own world,' Meg stated, matter-of-factly, then smiled. 'Or weren't you?' We were sat at one of the dining tables, Meg and I being the only ones who were already there. It was early in the morning and for once, I wasn't the one who'd overslept. Yesterday evening I caught the little redhead bragging to the older girls about how mature she was and how she didn't need her sleep. Well, I guess she was paying the price for that now.

'I was, I am sorry. I guess I have been doing it a lot lately, haven't I?'

'A bit, yes. But it's quite alright. I had a friend once, she was a lot like you in that respect. Always dreaming, always the same far-away look in her eyes.' She smiled sadly, then shook her head as if trying to shake off the creeping sadness. 'Speaking of her, _maman_ has asked her to come and visit one day soon. I do miss her and I am sure you will like her as well, but I don't know.. I am just not so sure if bringing her back to this Opera is a good thing. You know, after all that has happened.'

I nodded, but dared not to say anything. Did Meg know the Phantom was still here?

'Anyway, I really do want to see her again. It has been too long and she once was like a sister to me. Really, Angélique, I am sure you will find her just as pleasant as I do!'

Yet again, I just smiled. I, too, wasn't too sure what to think of it. Luckily, I didn't have to give her a real answer, for at that moment the other girls arrived and the topic swiftly shifted to simpler matters.

**pagebreak ~**

I had to tell him. Even during practice, this was the only thought occupying my mind. If _mademoiselle_ Daaé – or _madame_ Chagny, as was now the correct title, I believe – was really coming to the Opera Garnier, I had to tell him, had to at least prepare him. God knows how he would respond to her return. My only hope was that he would not lose his sanity – _again_. However, knowing the personality of my friend, I knew even those hopes might be out of reach.

It was because of this that I decided to slip away after dinner and quickly make my way to the ballet studio, where I knew he would meet. I still had not figured out how he did it, but somehow he always knew when I was waiting for him. At dinner, we had discussed the matter of the former Prima Donna and her imminent visit to the Opera and I had shared a look with Anne that had told me all that I needed to know: she, too, thought it best if I would inform the Ghost before the young woman would actually arrive. She had even caused a small commotion to make it easier for me to leave unnoticed.

Suddenly, one of the mirrors spur into motion and soon a secret passage came into view. I swiftly stepped into the hallway and before I knew it the mirror moved into its original place, submerging the entire passage in darkness.

_'Mademoiselle_,' I heard a velvet voice greet me from somewhere to my left.

'Good evening Phantom_._' I reached out into the darkness, soon making contact with the fabric of his coat and holding on to it. 'How are you doing?'

He stayed silent for a moment as we traversed the many passages. 'I am fine, thank you.' We soon reached the hidden library. I knew there were many dozens, if not hundreds, of other hidden passages throughout the Opera House apart from the one we always took to get to the library. I wondered, though, where else they could take us and if I would ever find out. 'Will I ever get to see where you live?' I wondered out loud, only realizing what I had said when it was too late to take it back.

He turned at me 'Why do you ask?' His face remained fairly neutral and one could easily mistake his question for being an invitation. However, in all this time I had spent with the Phantom, I had learned to know better than that. Although his face seemed calm, his eyes were cold as stone.

Therefore, I chose my next words carefully. 'It's just.. You know so much of me, when I really don't know anything about you, my friend. We talk about my life so frequently that I am sure it must be getting boring for you..'

'It's not, I assure you.'

Looking at the ground, I gathered my courage and in a soft whisper added: 'I do not even know your name…'

A silence dawned upon the room and for a long time, neither of us spoke. Judging from his face, he wasn't angry with me – which was a good thing. However, he seemed in some kind of inner conflict and I decided it best to give him some space. So I silently made my way to the fire and sat myself in one of the chairs.

I had not heard him coming, nor had I expected him to speak at all, but suddenly he was right beside me. 'It's Erik. My name is Erik.'

A smile formed at my lips, but I kept silent for a moment, not wanting to startle him with my sudden joy and enthusiasm. Realizing now that the inner conflict must have been about whether or not he would tell me his name, made it clear to me just how important this moment was. This man, who was only a Ghost to the world, had a name, a name to prove that he was just as real as I was, just as much a human as any other. 'Erik..' I repeated, trying out the sound of it myself. It was a pleasant name and I liked the way it felt on my tongue. 'Is it alright for me to call you by it?'

The Phantom – Erik – nodded slowly and gazed into the fire.

I wondered if anyone had ever called him by his name, if anyone had ever taken the time to see past the Phantom alter-ego and see him for who he truly was. Had she seen past it? 'Did… Christine know?'

'She did not.'

'Why not?'

'Because she never asked.' His face had become emotionless yet again and my heart ached for him. I had gotten the answer to my question; she had not. She, too, had seen him as nothing but a Phantom. Even when he'd professed his love to her, she had not seen him as enough of a man to even ask for his name.

I swallowed, knowing that there was no way I would now be able to bring up _mademoiselle_ Daaé's visit now.


	48. Chapter 48

It was the day of the wedding and the dormitories were full of laughter, giggling and gossiping that morning. A dozen or two ballerinas had been invited to Marie-Claire's big day and their excitement knew no boundaries. On top of that, the other girls who had not been invited were just as excited with getting to play with stage make up, hair products and fancy dresses.

Dressed in my gown from the masquerade and some shoes Meg had borrowed me, I suppose I did look kind of pretty. My hair hung in artificial curls down my back and I had even dared to apply a bit of the stage make up on my cheeks and eye lids. In contrast to some of the others however, I had kept it fairly modest.

When, at last, everyone was ready, we made our way to the awaiting carriages, letting ourselves be driven to the wedding location. It was a small, cozy little church, decorated with lilies and white ribbons. The ceremony was beautiful – despite the absence of the bride's parents – and I must admit that I felt a tug at my own heart at seeing the young couple.

After the ceremony, we all jointly moved to the location where the party would be held. It was somewhere in the outskirts of Paris and seemed to be not much more than a small tavern. Once inside, my estimation proved to be right; when everyone had filed in, I hardly had any personal space left. Friends, family, but mostly ballerinas, filled the room with their chatter and within minutes I had lost the others. I allowed myself a glass of wine from a waiter that passed by and sipped on it as I looked around. Most of the people around me seemed to be of average birth: no counts or dukes, just some bakers, tailors and perhaps some salesmen. I guess Marie-Claire's family did not come to terms with the union after all. It was at that moment that I spotted the bride in question.

Excusing myself from the gentleman who had been talking to me ever since he arrived, I made my way through the crowd. However, before I had made it even halfway across the room, a familiar face blocked the path.

_'Monsieur_ Rousseau?'

_'Mademoiselle_ Fournier.. What a surprise! I should have known you'd be here, too.'

I just stared at him, flabbergasted. 'Yes… Why are _you_ here? Oh dear, that was terribly rude of me. I mean, I thought you were…'

'Abroad. Yes, I was. But I received an invitation, so I decided to come back early.'

'An invitation from who?' I was confused, were _messieurs_ Rousseau and Lemoine acquainted?

Christophe opened his mouth to say something, but before he even had the chance, the bride herself popped up next to us. 'I did.' She flashed me a mischievous smile, then turned to him sweetly. 'So, Christophe, how are you enjoying yourself?'

'Very good, thank you. Also, I think an congratulations would be in order, wouldn't it, _madame_ Lemoine?'

She smiled 'It does sound good, does it not? In any case, I will go tend to my other guests now, I am sure Angèlique will keep you entertained.'

We watched her retreating back as she weaved through the crowd, both hoping to postpone the awkwardness that was certain to follow. 'So… How was business? I mean, you don't have to tell.. I just wanted..'

He held up his hand 'It's alright, _mademoiselle_ Fournier. You don't have to feel obliged to keep me company; I am a grown man, fully capable of taking care of myself.'

I wanted nothing more than to escape the discomfort, yet it felt wrong to just leave him standing there. 'Then at least come with me to the others,' I offered. 'I am sure Adrienne will be happy to see her brother.'

He nodded, but when I turned to walk he held my arm. 'I am truly sorry for putting you in a difficult position, _mademoiselle_, it was not my intention. I hope that you have thought about what I wrote in my last letter and that you might consider still taking me as a friend. If you do, I promise that I will never speak a word of my feelings for you again.'

'It's Angèlique,' I smiled, friendly. 'And I would most happily count you among my friends, _monsieur_.'

'It's Christophe.'

**pagebreak ~**

That evening, when we arrived back at the Opera, I was exhausted beyond compare. My feet hurt, my hair now hung in mere waves down my back and my body was aching to get out of the corset. Following the example of the others, I kicked out my shoes when we entered the lobby and walked the rest of the way to the dormitories bare foot. Even for a ballerina, who was used to wearing uncomfortable pointe shoes, heels were a torment.

Looking back on the day, I could not help but smile. I had had a good time. Once Christophe and I had gotten to our strange, but nevertheless working, friendship, I had danced with him several times. He had taught me a few more dances and although I was no good at any of them, I must admit it felt great to just have fun. In the end I even dared to accept a dance with some unfamiliar man, but I think the poor guy regretted it the instant we began. I had stepped on his feet more than a handful of times and with my heels on, that must have hurt quite a lot. My spirits hadn't lowered though and only minutes later I had tried again, this time with Christophe. The joy of dancing – and some wines I had consumed inbetween dances – made me feel as weightless and free as a child and I realized that I had been kind of stressed lately.

Dropping down on my bed, I struggled to get out of my dress and corset and then snuggled beneath the covers, not even taking the effort of putting on my night gown. I let out a sigh of content, then – due to exhaustion and intoxication – drifted off to sleep in a matter of seconds.

_Candlelight illuminated caves set the scene and I felt myself swaying to the notes of an unseen instrument. There was a lake to my left and to my right something that seemed to be a house. Tracing the steps, I found myself in something that seemed to resemble a living room. There was a hearth in one of the walls and most of the others were covered with books. A comfortable looking armchair was facing the fire and I could not resist the temptation to sit down in it for a moment. Soon, however, I was on my feet again and dwelled through one of the door holes into a hallway. There were several doors to my left and right, but before I could decide which one to open first, long curtains drew my attention. Like with a fitting room, they seemed to hide a small area from sight. Drawn in, I stepped closer and lifted my arm to open them. Something inside of me told me not to, trying to warm me from imminent danger. But my curiosity was sparked by the mystery surrounding the curtains and I took hold of the soft, smooth cloth. I held my breath, closed my eyes and then pulled them open in one motion. Opening my eyes, I stood face to face with Christine Daaé._

I woke up with a start, panting as I took in my surroundings. I was in the dormitories, in my own bed. Why exactly that was such a relief, I did not remember, but I lowered myself back into my pillow. I did not remember what had scared me so, but I could not shake the fear that something was going to happen. And I was not sure if it would be for the good.


	49. Chapter 49

Although I had vowed to hate the woman that had destroyed my friend's life, now I saw her, I couldn't help but pity them both; he wasn't the monster the world had made him out to be, he was just a man. A lost and lonely man. But likewise, she wasn't the viper I had thought she would be – that I had _wanted_ her to be. She was just a scared, naive young girl, too simple minded and good to ever understand the man behind the mask. I truly felt sorry for her, for she too had been caught up in something that went far above her head.

And in that moment, I realized that she would have never been able to make him happy. Even if she had tried, if she had loved him, I knew she would have never survived in the darkness, instead she would have withered away like a flower growing in the shadows.

As she stood there, surrounded by a dozen of young ballet rats crowding together to get a glimpse of the famous ex Prima Donna, I could easily see the fright in her eyes. Although she tried to seem at ease, her rigid posture and constant scanning of the room betrayed her. Her big, brown eyes, although beautiful, held nothing but kindness and an almost childlike sense of good and evil. Her features, delicate and serene, also betrayed a fragility that I knew would not have last a day with the Phantom.

She was gorgeous and sweet, but that was all there was. She'd fled when she saw the face of a tortured man and although I wanted to hate her for it, I knew she had made the right decision. Delicate flowers such as her were not meant to be grown in the shadows. And likewise, the Phantom was not meant to spend a life with someone with so little understanding of the world. I could see that now and therefore, in that breath, I forgave her.

It was at that same moment that she noticed our little group standing there and, probably recognizing the other girls, walked up to us. 'Oh how lovely it is to see you again, my dear friends!' She hugged the other girls, then at last stopped before me. 'How rude of me not to introduce myself sooner. My name is Christine de Chagny.'

'Yes... I know...'

The young woman looked surprised at first, then she smiled sadly 'Of course you have, gossip here at the Opera spreads like wildfire. Well, nervertheless am I glad to be back, even though it brings back memories of things that I would rather forget.' She shook her head, as if in an attempt to shake off the memories, and then we were off.

We made a short tour around the Opera House, pointing out both what was different as what had not changed at all. All the while, it was not difficult to see that the young woman was frightened to death; with every sound, her eyes frantically searched the hallways, with every room we entered, she checked the shadows before she would breathe again.

As it turned out, the strange sensation I had had for the entire week had been right. And although Meg had only yesterday told us that her former best friend was visiting, after half a week of strange dreams and a weird feeling in my gut I had already been fairly certain that something was going to happen. I could now only hope that any damage that would be done would not be disastrous.

Apparently, I was not the only one who wasn't happy with _madame_ de Chagny's visit. When we'd passed the stage, we'd run straight into the terror of many young ballerinas' sleep: La Carlotta. Instead of her usual swearing and shouting, however, she'd turned a ghastly pale and had taken a few steps back, all the while never getting her eyes of her former rival. Describing her facial expression, I guess I could only say she looked like she'd seen a ghost – which I suppose the situation must have been similar to for her. Her eyes had then darted across the room, after which she'd left the stage in a hurry. For a moment or two, we'd all just stood there, flabbergasted by the Prima Donna's rather uncharacteristic behaviour, but no one said a word. I guess we all understood.

Later, when the tour had come to an end, we had sat down in _Madame_ Giry's private chambers – which the ballet mistress had so generously given us permission to. _Madame_ de Chagny had been like a daughter to her, so I suppose it made sense.

'It is so strange to be back,' the young brunette woman said, folding her hands in her lap. 'I had sworn to myself never to come back to this place, but now that I am here, I find myself filled with both fond memories as images that cause me dread.'

'You don't have to be afraid, it's safe now Christine,' Adrienne said, putting a hand over Christine's reassuringly. Her words made me shiver, but I didn't say anything about it.

'I know.. Thank you, my dear friend.' She smiled sadly, then seemed to get herself together. 'So, what exiting things have happened around here?'

This alone was all the encouragement the little redhead needed to start off a half-hour long rant about anything that had happened, big and small. Since I wasn't very interested in gossip or things that I had been part of myself, I decided to study the Viscountess from up close. Her chocolate curls were pinned up on the top of her head in a fashion that I had seen on more noble women lately. She wore a bit of pink eye shadow and some blush on her cheeks, but apart from that she seemed to be a natural beauty. Her pale lily skin was fair and I could imagine many men swoon over her doll like appearance. I understood how one could say we looked alike, for she too was tall and slender, missing the curves many women our age possessed, and we shared our brown curls. That, however, was where the similarities ended. Both physically and mentally – and in our social standing – we were two entirely different person, tied together only by a shared friend. And the Phantom…

It was at this moment that I was snapped out of my daydreaming by the mentioning of that very same man. 'Have there been… any accidents since…?'

We all shared a quick glance, as if trying to decide our next course of action, then Anne spoke 'There have not. I suppose he left along with you.'

_Madame_ de Chagny visibly relaxed at those words. 'I hope he's in a happier place now. He was not just a madman, you know? He could be kind, caring, charming even if he wished to. His voice would fill me with all that is good and sweet in this world and sometimes at night I still hear him singing in my head. I could have seen past his face, if it had not been for what lay behind it. For at times loving and sweet, I feared his rage beyond all else.' By now her voice was only barely a whisper and she stared off into the distance, her face contorted by invisible strains. 'Those last few days, his eyes, once so warm and caring, revealed nothing but wickedness and it was then that I realized that his true deformity was not his face. It was his soul.'

A sob broke through the silence that had followed and all our heads turned to the wall in unison. A hidden passageway, I realized, he'd been listening all along.

Without thinking, I broke out in a coughing fit. 'Dear God, I am truly sorry, my throat is acting all funny.'

Anne leaned into me and patted my back, while whispering 'Go, I'll cover for you.'

Not certain if she'd said what I thought she had, I gave her a quizzical look, but she just nodded. Jumping up from my chair, I quickly excused myself and ran off. Racing through the Opera House, I tried to dodge everyone that could get in my way. If the Phantom truly had been listening all along, I could only guess at the mental state he would be in. All that I knew was that I'd have to reach him, fast, for God only knows what he'd do to himself.

Opening the entrance in the ballet studio, I slipped into the dark passages and made my way to the library as fast as I could without injuring myself. He had once told me that the other road from the library would lead to the Opera catacombs – after which he warned me never to go there. Somehow, as if my feet knew the urgency of the situation, I made my way down a large flight of stairs and to the shore of a large underground lake. On the other shore, I could see the light of what must have been a thousand candles, illuminating a stone house. The house from my dreams, I realized. Taking a step forward into the cold water, I soon came to the conclusion that it was too deep to walk, and since I could not swim I looked around me for another means of transport. It was then that I spotted a small gondola and I quickly untied it. Getting the pole, I unsteadily started pushing myself forward over the lake, all the while praying to God that I would not capsize and drown.

Fortunately for me, none of this happened and I made it safely into shallower water, only to notice that there was a large, heavy looking portcullis standing between me and my destination. Jumping of the gondola I waded through the cold water and stood against the metal. Movement on the shore bank caught my eye and I did the only reasonable thing I could think of; I started screaming.

'Phantom, open the gate!'

He didn't look up, just stumbled further, his sobs bouncing off the stone walls around me.

'Phantom, please, I am here to help!'

Still no response. This was when an idea came to mind.

'Erik! Erik, I know you can hear me. I beg of you Erik, open the gate.'

For the first time since my arrival, he seemed to acknowledge my presence and for a good minute, he just stared at me, as if wondering what kind of mad person was standing there, soaked and screaming. He slowly pulled a lever and, at last, the portcullis disappeared into the ceiling. Moving closer, I noticed he was still merely staring at me, his lips moving, but I could not hear his words. I tried to shake it off. Perhaps he was just surprised to see me. However, when I came closer, I could finally hear his words.

'Christine, my dearest, you came back. You came back for your Angel of Music. You came back for Erik. You came back.' He started sobbing again and threw himself at my feet, kissing them as if they were made of solid gold.

I crouched in front of him and pulled him into an embrace. 'My poor, poor friend. What have you done to yourself.' I stroked through his hair, neither of us saying anything, but I suppose it was enough for after some time his sobs seemed to lessen and his tight grip on my shoulders loosened.

**~**

**I did not choose to make Christine into a bitch, a villain, as I've seen so many other stories do. It just doesn't seem right. Because if we are all honest with ourselves, we know that she was perfectly right to run away. And I realized that and therefore to write her just the way she is: a scared, childish girl, who feared Erik, but never really had any bad intentions towards him. Anyways, here's a shoutout to _PhantomFan01, EvaAuthor_ and _RedDeathLvr _for reviewing!**


	50. Chapter 50

'You came for Erik. For poor old Erik.'

I wasn't sure whether he was still talking to Christine, but I decided it wouldn't hurt to comfort him anyway. 'Yes, I am here, Erik, I am not leaving you.' Rubbing his back, I pondered over my next course of action. Surely the others would have gotten suspicious, since I had been gone for quite some time now. But I could not just leave him behind like that, not now he seemed to be more vulnerable than I'd ever seen him before.

Not feeling my legs anymore due to the freezingly cold, wet dress that was plastered against my skin, I decided to take him into the house. When I had finally gotten him to the armchair at the grate, I told him I'd be right back and moved into the kitchen. In one of the cabinets I discovered a small kettle and I quickly put it on the stove with some water. Searching through some more, I found a teacup, teabags and some sugar. While waiting for the water to boil, I checked on my friend. He was staring into the fire numbly, not even acknowledging me when I asked him something. All the time he was mumbling incoherent sentences, most of them concerning the ex Prima Donna, the fire or the Vicomte.

When I came back with the tea, he was still staring and I could not help but feel like the situation was hopeless. How could he ever live a normal life if the sight of Christine caused him to retreat back into his mind? I shook my head, not wanting to think so negatively. 'Erik, I made you some tea. I hope you like cherries, it was the only flavor I could find.' He didn't respond once again and I sighed. Putting down the tea on a side table, I pulled one of his hands towards me and began pulling at the leather glove. Once I got both removed I put the teacup in his hands, hoping that somehow the heat would reach his heart.

For the first time in what seemed like centuries, his eyes blinked and he looked down at his hands confused. Looking back up at me, his eyes flickered with understanding. 'Thank you.'

'That's what friends do.' Getting up from the armrest, I walked up to the a sideboard and picked up the white object lying on the top. 'Here, you had this lying on the ground and I put it away in case it would break.'

Erik stared at the half mask in my hand, then up to my face and then, again, back at the mask. His left, un-gloved hand flew to his face and ,on touching the bare skin, he snatched the mask from my hands. 'Now you've seen it for yourself; I am a monster. A monster by face and soul, as my former protégé so eloquently put it.'

'You are not.'

'How can you say that? Look at me, can you not see what I am?'

'All I see is a friend. A friend who is badly hurt and abused.' In an attempt to comfort him, I put a hand on his arm, but he pulled back.

'Don't touch me.'

'You're not a monster, Erik, I know you are not.'

'What is this, if not the face of a demon?' He gestured at the right, maimed side of his face.

Reaching out my hand, I let my fingers trace his skin. Following every line, every concave I explored his face for the first time. I let my fingertips touch the red, angry looking skin on the right half of his face, but did not leave his strong chin, his aristocratic nose or his high cheekbones unexplored. I am not going to lie, when I first saw the maimed side of his face fear had passed through me for a second. But then I had realized how stupid it was to fear him, when I had been his friend for all this time. Now I could see him, all of him and it was as if I saw him for the first time – and in a way, I did. 'It's the face of a man.'

**Erik's point of view**

Somehow, those words were more redeeming than any flattery could have ever been. Although a part was still there, it felt as if a weight had been lifted off of his shoulders and he could finally breathe again. A smile tugged at the corner of his lips and he opened his eyes to see Angélique all but stare at him. 'What is it? Coming back on your words now, little lady?' He dared to tease her.

She shook her head and blushed 'You are.. well, you are quite handsome when you smile. You look alive.'

Now openly smiling, he had to admit to himself that he felt alive. More alive in fact than he had done in a very long time, even before Christine. He held no disillusioned hopes for the future, yet he knew he was not alone. For the first in a long time, he felt like Erik. He was not the Devil's Child, not the Phantom of the Opera, he was Erik. And at that moment, that seemed to be enough. 'I feel…-'

'What in God's name is going on here, Erik?'

Both of them turned their heads to the shore bank. There, with the hem of her black dress sodden and a very, very angry look on her face, stood Antoinette Giry.

'Antoinette, it's not what you…-' He started, but was already cut off before he could even start to explain.

'I am sure it is not, Erik. Just like it wasn't what I thought last time. When is this madness ever going to stop? This is the last time I will see you kidnap innocent girls down to your lair. I considered you my friend, Erik, but this is were I must draw the line.'

'Please, Antoinette, if you'd only listen to…-'

'I most definitely shall not! When Christine told me another one of my ballerinas had run off, I hoped against hopes that you would be behind this. But I suppose I should have known.'

_'Madame_ Giry, please, he's right.' From the corner of his eyes, he saw Angélique rise from the armrest. 'I am here by my own choice. Erik never forced me to come down here.'

'Then why else would you be here?' Antoinette did not seem swayed by her words, probably thinking he had coerced her into telling this story.

'Because he is my friend.'

'You know he has killed people, that he kidnapped a girl before and…-'

'I don't care,' Angélique said, adamantly. 'I know what he did, _madame_ Giry, but I also know that he is a good person. I will not try to erase his past deeds, but I can only ask you to try and look past them, like I do.'

The ballet mistress scrutinized the young girl, almost as if trying to read her mind, then looked at him. 'I still don't agree with all of this, Erik, but I am sure you know that. Angélique, I expect you to look fit and awake tomorrow at practice. No excuses.' With that, his old friend turned on her heel and left through one of the secret entrances.

'Was that..-'

'Yes, that was Antoinette Giry's way of saying she resigned herself to it.' 

**I am sure none of you noticed, so I'm drawing some extra attention to this. For the first time in my story, when writing from Erik's point of view, I actually used his name. As you will see if you look in earlier chapters, I have always said 'The Phantom's point of view'. This is no coincidence. In fact, I did this very consciously to point out that for the first time, Erik is actually Erik. I like to see the Phantom as an alter ego, one that makes him feel in control and also hides the fact that he actually hates himself. And at the same time, it reflects how he feels about himself; as a ghost. So yeah, it's not really important, but I wanted to draw attention to this little detail anyway. So, special shoutout to _EvaAuthor, RedDeathLvr_ and PhantomFan01 for reviewing.**


	51. Chapter 51

After that Sunday, life seemed to go back to normal quickly. From one moment to the next, people seemed to have forgotten the visit of the ex Prima Donna and it was almost as if it hadn't happened. For me however, that certain visit had changed everything.

Although Erik still insisted to wear his mask around me, he was less reserved. He would laugh at my jokes – and sometimes at my expense – and at times even dared to crack a joke himself. It was a refreshing change and I could only hope it would last.

This however, concerned only nightlife. At day, I would struggle to keep up under _madame_ Giry's scrutinizing gaze, aware at all times that she was watching my every move. She had more or less accepted the situation as it was, but still looked for things that she could blame on Erik. They were little things, mostly, such as me eating too little meat, letting out a yawn in practice ("A good night's rest is the most important thing for a ballerina to succeed!") or even for chatting with the girls. I could not really care about any of this, however, if only because I couldn't miss Erik for the world.

On Wednesday I received a letter from my mother. She told me that my brother had sent her mail from Russia, telling her all was well. Apparently he was living with a man, Andrei, and his family. Mother also told me about Madeleine, the shop and how she and father were faring. Lastly, she asked me about life at the Opera, if I would come home in the summer and whether or not there were any men of interest.

Since I was not yet ready to leave the tranquility of the library – and since Erik would not be available that evening, anyway – I decided to write her back directly. Dipping my quill in the ink, I replied to the pleasantries. I wrote her about Marie-Claire's wedding, about the rocky relationship between Meg and her mother and about daily life at the Opera. When I came to the topic of men, I rested my quill for a moment. If only for a second, Christophe crossed my mind. Then however, I realized that if I mentioned him, I would be forced to tell her about his proposal to court me – and, more importantly, my denial of said proposal – as well. Therefore, I decided to tell her about Erik, for although a friend, he really _was _an interesting man. Of course I could not exactly tell her he was the Phantom of the Opera, or that he had kidnapped a lead singer and had effectively set the Opera Populaire on fire, but I could tell her about him as a person.

I told her he was an accomplished man, who was both intellectual and knowledgeable of the world. I wrote about his passion for music, about his many, _many_ talents. I told her about how he was a misunderstood man, but that I could not imagine a better one. But most of all I told her about how I loved having conversations with him, how he had a way of making me smile, how we could share a joke but also enjoy silence together. Quickly finishing off the rest of the letter, I folded it and wrote down the name and address on an envelope. After having blown out the candle, I had no problems finding my way back to the dormitories, even in the absence of any moonlight. An outcome of my many late night meetings with Erik. And that evening, I dearly missed him.

**pagebreak~**

It was Friday when I received another letter. When _madame_ Giry handed it to me – of course with the ever scrutinizing gaze she nowadays seemed to wear whenever I was around – I presumed it would be another of my mother's letters. However, when I looked at the handwriting on the envelope, I immediately realized it wasn't. In fact, it didn't look familiar at all. I frowned; I did not expect any mail. Excusing myself from the others, I made my way back to the dormitories and sat down on my bed. I ripped the envelope open impatiently and pulled out a white paper. "Dear Angèlique_,_" it began "I know it might seem odd that I write you this letter. But believe me, I write you with the best of intentions. I wish not to elaborate on the details per letter, so I hope you will forgive me my secrecy and will join me for some tea this Sunday. I request you not to tell a soul – or a Ghost – of our meeting, if only for your own good. I thank you for your discretion. Yours sincerely, Christine, the Viscountess de Chagny - Daaé."

I stared at the letter in my hands, not fully grasping what was going on. Whatever could the Viscountess want to talk about with me? And why would she specifically mention not to tell 'a Ghost'? When _madame_ Giry had found Erik and me under the Opera, she _had_ mentioned Christine..

Could that be it? Could that be why she wanted to talk to me? And if so, what was I supposed to say to her? Could I tell her that he was my friend, that the man who kidnapped her meant the world to me? Opening the drawing of my nightstand, I hid the letter underneath some ribbons and letters from my mother. _Madame_ de Chagny was right, no one could know. The girls would only get suspicious and frankly, I feared for what would happen to Erik's already instable state of mind if he knew I was about to meet up with his former protégé. No, she was right, secrecy would be the best course of action in this case. I sighed and lay down on the bed. Things could impossibly get even more complicated.

**I know this is a short chapter, but it really is just a filler. I am on vacation now (Edinburgh, loving it!), but I will try to keep writing. Let me know how you enjoyed it. Feedback is always welcome! A shoutout to _PhantomFan01, RedDeathlvr _and _EvaAuthor _for reviewing.**


	52. Chapter 52

When I had said things couldn't get more complicated, I turned out to be awfully wrong. Not only did they get more complicated, they also got a bit uncomfortable.

As I was untying my pointe shoes a small, young woman came rushing into the dressing room, her face flushed and her chest heaving. '_Mademoiselle _Fournier, there is a young man for you in the lobby. He.-' She breathed in deeply 'He asked me to go and get you at once, _mademoiselle_.'

Bewildered, and a tad bit curious I must confess, I slipped on some flats and followed the woman – who I now recognized as belonging to the cleaning staff – to the entrance. I really couldn't fathom who would visit me on a Saturday, and so unexpected, too. The only male visitor – and with that the only visitor in general – I ever received was Christophe, but he hadn't dared to stop by ever since his proposal. Also, he would never just show up unannounced. Apart from him I did not hold any social relations and that situation made me feel both comfortable as perhaps a bit pathetic. 'Did he mention his name? This visiting _monsieur_ I mean.'

She shook her head 'No _mademoiselle_. Just said he needed to see you. He was very direct in his manner of speaking, almost blunt, but not unkind I suppose.'

I pondered her answer, immediately coming to the conclusion that the possibility of it being Christophe was now completely ruled out. But who else did that leave?

We soon arrived at the top of the large stairs in the lobby, giving me a good view of whoever was waiting for me. He stood with his back turned to me, his hair was tied together and hung to his shoulders in a wavy mass of brown locks. His clothes, although clean and neat, suggested he was not from the highest upbringing and perhaps not even from the neighborhood. Despite that, there was something familiar about the way he carried himself, about the way his hands were folded behind his back and even the way he'd positioned his feet. Recognition spread across my face I ran down the stairs without a second thought. 'Émile!'

As he turned, a huge grin spread from ear to ear and he tightly locked me in his arms. 'I missed you so much, my dearest sister!'

'As did I you! How good it is to see you again. But how come you are not in Russia?'

My brother smiled sheepishly and scratched the back of his head, as was his custom whenever he was about to admit to something. 'Well I sort of got kicked out of the house…'

I shook my head disapprovingly, not even wanting to know whatever it was my brother had done this time. 'So, are you going to stay in Paris for some time?'

'Actually, I am only passing through. I was ho…-'

'There you are! One day we won't be able to find you anymore when you run off like that, you know? And for a suitor, too, shame on you!' Adrienne cried out and joined us at the bottom of the stairs, Anne and Meg soon following.

'Oh no, you don't understand. This is not.. he's not.. This is my brother.'

'Oh….' The redhead said, laughing sheepishly.

'Everyone, this is my brother, Émile. Émile, these are Adrienne, Meg and Anne.'

'Pleasure,' my brother, ever so charming, smiled and kissed each girl's hand.

I had to keep myself from slapping him and instead plastered a small smile on my face. 'Yes, my _dear_ brother has just returned from a trip to Russia, but I am afraid he won't be able to stay long, _right_?'

Émile, who up until this point had been staring at Anne, nodded. 'That's right. That's why I wanted to ask you to go and have lunch with me, say, tomorrow afternoon?'

'Why don't we go now? It's such a fine day, would be a shame to be locked inside, wouldn't it?'

'You are quite right, sister. However, I fear that I have some matters to attend to that must be dealt with today. Besides, I left that bellhop with my baggage and I don't trust him one bit.' He laughed.

Biting my lip, I knew there was no other way than to agree with his request – at least in front of the others. 'Very well. Let me at least walk you out, then.'

'Alright!' He then turned to my friends 'It was nice meeting you, ladies.'

I hooked my arm with his and walked – almost dragged – him through the double doors. Outside, we were met with bright sunlight and the sounds of a lively, bustling city. Before he could take another step down the stairs, however, I turned to him. 'Émile, wait.' I fiddled with the hem of my dress. 'I am otherwise occupied tomorrow, however, if anyone asks then I was with you that day, alright? I know this is a lot to ask and a strange request, indeed, but it's important to me.'

His face, first cheerful, turned serious. 'Is something wrong, sis?'

'No, it's just.. just don't tell anyone, okay?'

My brother, of course, wouldn't leave it at this. 'Are you in danger? Is someone threatening you?'

'I promise you it's nothing of the sort, don't you worry. It's just a very long story..'

'And I want to hear it anyway.'

I sighed and suddenly felt goose bumps cover my arms. Looking up, there was the large Opera building looming over us, casting a large shadow over us. 'I can't tell you now, not here. But I will write you a letter this afternoon, explaining everything.'

He looked at me skeptically, then nodded. 'Very well, but don't you dare leaving out even the smallest detail.' He then proceeded to tell me the name of his hotel and left shortly after. Oh heavens, what was I to do..

**pagebreak~**

Finishing up, I folded the letter and neatly put in in the envelope. All the while my head was spinning with questions and concerns. Émile was the first to know _everything_ and that thought alone was enough to scare the living daylight out of me. I had debated whether or not to simply lie, but I knew my brother not to be so easily deceived. If he would see through it, I knew he would not stop before he had gotten to the bottom of it and I feared that sniffing around the Opera House would only lead him to biased conclusions. On the other hand, I feared that by telling him the truth, I could be parted from my career, my friends and Erik forever. If the contents of my letter would not be to his liking, I was sure he would not hesitate to tell my parents, thinking he was doing the right thing. Even my urging for him not to tell anyone wouldn't stop him if that were the case.

I sighed, there was no other option. I could only hope that my brother would see the matter as I saw it and would become an ally rather than an opponent.

Writing down the name of the hotel, my brother's name and the address down on the envelope, I shoved it in a pocket of my dress and made my way to the post office, all the while praying to God this would end well.

**Here's another (short) chapter, lovely readers. I hope you are still enjoying my story and I want to thank you all for sticking up with me. I would like to give a special thanks to _EvaAuthor_, _michellecarriveau_ and _'Guest'_ for reviewing.**


	53. Chapter 53

The next morning saw me rising long before my normal waking hours on a Sunday. I had put on my best dress and had tried to make myself look as presentable as possible. Sitting down with the others for breakfast, I soon came to the conclusion that I couldn't swallow one bite, and so I gave up quickly.

As I sat in the carriage, my hand palms were sweaty and I couldn't help but doubt if I had made the right decision in coming. I nervously fidgeted with the hem of my dress, trying to smoothen it as much as possible. My stomach was doing constant turns and I was glad I had not eaten breakfast, or I would surely have heaved it all up. Through the window, I could see the scenery change from a closely packed, busy city to the peaceful country side and I knew we were approaching our destination. This was a good prospect for my agitated stomach, but a bit less for me.

When we came to a halt – at last or all too soon – the driver opened the door for me and helped me out. Taking a deep breath, I walked up to the front door and knocked.

It was soon answered by an elderly woman in a black dress who smiled heartily at me. 'Good day_, mademoiselle_. Is there anything I can help you with?'

'Y-Yes.. T-the Viscountess has invited me for tea,' I told her, nervously.

'Ah _mademoiselle_ Fournier, is it not? Please come in, _madame_'s in the drawing room.'

Walking in, I marveled at the size of the lobby alone. When I had thought Christophe's house was large, I could now say it could easily be called 'humble' compared to the house of _monsieur_ and _madame_ de Chagny. As the housekeeper took me through several rooms, I got more chance to admire the pomp and circumstance. Every room was decorated in an elegant, but simple matter and there was always enough light pouring in through the large windows to give it a friendly atmosphere.

It was then that we stopped in front of a door and the elder lady knocked softly.

A voice sounded from inside and the door was opened.

'_Mademoiselle_ Fournier, _madame_.'

Taking (another) deep breath, I stepped past her and entered the room. It was once again modestly decorated, with on one side a fire place and two sofas and on the other a piano. From what I had seen of the rest of the house, it was quite a small room, but it looked comfortable enough. In the middle of one of the sofas, with a cup of tea in her hand, sat the Viscountess. 'I am delighted you have come. Please, sit.'

Nodding, I took place across from her and folded my hands in my lap.

'Would you like some tea, _mademoiselle _Fournier?'

'That would be lovely, Viscountess de Chagny.'

She smiled 'It's just Christine.'

'It's just Angèlique.'

After this, she asked a young maid to get some tea and we waited in silence for her return. Neither of us seemed to be at ease, though I must admit the Viscountess did a better job than me at hiding it. Sipping from her tea, she stared in the fire for a few moments, but was then brought back from her thoughts by the maid's return.

The young girl poured me some tea and then excused herself, closing the door behind her as she went. Another long, uncomfortable silence fell over us and I awkwardly sipped from my tea. It was then, at last, that the Viscountess broke the silence.

'I am sure you know why I asked you to come.'

'I am afraid I do not, _madame_,' I answered, feigning innocence. I decided it might be best trying to avoid the subject all together.

She sighed softly. 'When I was at the Opera, it became immediately clear to me that there was something… _different_ about you. And when you ran off after the noise, I was sure; you know the Phantom.'

'Excuse me, but I…-'

'Don't try to deny it, Angèlique, I know it to be true.' She smiled sadly 'You reminded me a bit of myself when I was living at the Opera. The faraway looks, the daydreaming. Well, let us say he picks his victims well.'

'I am not his victim.' I put down my cup – a bit too hard – and stared at her pointedly. 'Erik would never hurt me.'

The young woman seemed surprised at this 'Erik?'

Biting my lip, it took me all my energy to stay polite and not to snap at her. 'Yes, Erik, that's his name. But I think it's only normal that I know that, considering he's my friend.'

Looking down into her tea, she sighed again. 'I already feared it would be so.. Do you not know what happened to me when he took me under his wing.. when he was _my_ friend?'

'I do, _madame_, and I am awfully sorry for what happened. But do not tell me you were his friend, when you were only moments ago surprised to hear he has a name at all, let alone that it is Erik. Besides, things are different now, _he_ is different now.'

'But don't you see the dang…-'

'_Madame_, if this is all you had to say to me, then I will take my leave. I will not sit here and try and stay polite with you when all you do is insult my friends, my choices and my judgment.' Standing up, I made for the door.

'Angèlique, please, I only mean to help you. I..-'

Whirling around, I glared at her. 'You do not. You simply cannot stand the idea that Erik can be a better man and that _you_ did not see it when you had the chance. You are unhappy in your life and therefore will not let him be happy in his.' I paused and continued, in a softer voice. 'I know that he's a good man, Christine, and all I want is for him to find the happiness that he has been denied for so long. If I can even add a little bit to that happiness, I have nothing else to wish for.'

She stared at me for a long time, then her lips curled up in a sad smile. 'You really love him, don't you?'

Flabbergasted, I looked at her as if she'd grown two heads. 'I do not know what you are talking about, _madame_, but I..-'

'I cannot believe that I did not see it before, but it's so clear now.' She stood and walked up to me. 'I hope you are right, Angèlique, and that he has changed. And I hope that you will be able to bring him the happiness that I could not..' She stayed silent for a moment. 'I still dream of him sometimes, still hear him in my head and at those moments, you are right, I doubt whether I have made the right choice. But when I wake up and I see my loving husband, I know I could have never been happy with the Ph… with _Erik_. But he deserves someone that can make him happy and I truly hope that you will. I am sorry for the course of events, they were far from how I planned them to go. But know that if you ever need help, of whatever nature, you have a friend in me.'

And with those words I left the de Chagny mansion, both relieved as confused, but most of all wondering if there had been truth to her words.

**This is the long awaited meeting with Christine, I hope it hasn't disappointed anyone. Like I mentioned in one of the earlier chapters, I had a choice; I could either make Christine the bitch, the easy villain, but I could also just try and write her the way she is supposed to be written. I guess it's clear which way I have chosen. I didn't like Christine's character either (not in book or movie), but she was never mean. She was just childish and well.. stupid, I guess. And so I have tried to write her that way as well, although of course she has learned a bit or two from what happened with Erik. Anyway, a shout out to _PhantomFan01_, _michellecarriveau_ and_ EvaAuthor _for reviewing, thank you so much, you guys are fantastic!**


	54. Chapter 54

I felt positively exhausted and worn out when I arrived at practice the next day. Not having been able to sleep, I had spent the night pondering over Christine's words. At first I had been sure it was silly, that the Viscountess was completely wrong. But then, as often happens when you are overthinking a matter so important, yet so strange, images started to float into my mind. There was nothing really big; no feelings of burning desire or urges to kiss him. No, they were little things, memories that made me realize that I perhaps cared more for Erik that I had first thought I did.

That, however, still didn't prove anything, my mind had told me. I could care very much for him, yet see him only as a friend. There was no reason those two things couldn't perfectly well go together. My brain had been right about that, yet for some reason, I had not been able to drop the matter after that. And so, quite unwillingly, I had spent the entire night pondering over some silly woman's words.

'It's a turn to the left, not right,' Meg whispered in my ear as I was about to bump into the girl next to me.

Smiling sheepishly, I corrected myself just in time to avoid attracting _madame_ Giry's wrath and perhaps another, even more scrutinizing gaze. I scolded myself mentally, knowing I would have to pay more attention to the routine and less to my agonizingly confusing thoughts.

'Right this time.' Meg was my hero for the day being.

I managed to slip in a quick 'thanks' before _madame_ Giry caught up on our whispering. Focusing on the steps, I managed to finish the remainder of act four without mistakes, even earning myself a small smile from the ballet mistress.

As we sat down for a quick break, I laid down my head in my lap and sighed heavily.

'Well you don't look very good today,' Adrienne remarked cheerily.

'Thank you..'

_'Mademoiselle_ Fournier?'

Looking up from my lap, I saw the ballet mistress in front of me, once again a stern look upon her face. I gulped, ready for my imminent punishment. 'Yes, _madame_?'

'One of the maids just brought a letter for you, I assume you can hand the other to _mademoiselle_ Martin?'

Nodding, I was happy to receive the letters instead of harsh words because of my inattention during practice. As the older woman retreated, I looked at the two envelopes. It did not cost me long to recognize the sloppy handwriting as my brother's, seeing that there were few people that wrote worse than him. What surprised me, however, was that the name and address on the second envelope, the one that was addressed to Anne, was written in the same hand. Knitting my eyebrows, I wondered whatever he could want to write her about. I mean, he did not even know her. Yet, as if my brain took that as a signal, a memory floated to the surface and I recalled the look Émile had given her when I had introduced them to each other. Could that be it? In all honesty, I hoped not. As much as I loved and respected my brother, I had never much liked his way with women. To put it quite frank; he liked their company, but only for a night. I did not wish that on Anne.

Heaving myself to my feet nonetheless, I went to locate the woman in question, who – as I soon found – was explaining some steps to one of the younger ballerinas. I cleared my throat. 'Eh.. Anne? _Madame_ Giry gave me this, said it came with the mail today.' Awkwardly, I handed her the letter and turned on my heel.

'Are you alright?'

'Yes yes, I simply didn't sleep that well,' I said, waving her question away with my hand. 'Don't worry about me.' Luckily for me, she did not get a chance to respond, for at this moment _madame_ Giry called us back to practice and I couldn't say there were many times I had been happier to go back to practice.

**pagebreak~**

'I am absolutely sure she sleeps with him!'

'There are loads of other, decent ways of getting a promotion,' I brought in, shaking my head vigorously. We were currently on our way back to the dormitories, having just filled our stomachs to the point of bursting. Pièrre's cooking was just too good to stop at one portion.

'Oh Angèlique, please, we all know how much of a harlot she is. Wouldn't surprise me if she'd slept her way into the Opera in the first place.'

'Meg's right,' Adrienne piped up 'Just look at the way men stare at her!'

Throughout our bickering, Anne had stayed unusually quiet. Although not one for gossip, she usually knew what was going on in the Opera House and didn't shy away from giving her opinion about it. Knowing that she would not want to talk about it in front of everyone, however, I decided to say nothing about it.

'Well, still I refuse to believe that a woman would lower herself to such means, just to get herself higher up.'

Meg shook her head 'How naïve you are, my friend. Do you really know nothing of the Opera world? Half of the people here have slept their way in.'

'And the other have bought themselves in.'

I laughed 'So which of the two was it for you?'

'Well, my mother works here, I don't think you need to know any more,' Meg winked. 'That only leaves us the question how you two got in here.'

'Money!' Adrienne chimed happily.

'Talent?'

'Nahh!' They both called out simultaneously, then burst out in laughter.

'So, Anne, what do you think?'

Looking up from her thoughts, she met our eyes with a confused look. 'I am sorry?'

'Well, did Angèlique sleep or buy her way in?'

'Oh eh..I don't know..'

'What are you being so starry-eyed about?' Adrienne snatched the letter from her hand. 'And what's with this letter you've been carrying around for the entire day.' Folding it open, her eyes scanned the text, then she burst out in giggles.

'What is it, Adrienne?' Meg asked, trying to get a glimpse of the letter's content.

'It seems _someone_ got an admirer.'

At that last word, my blood ran cold and I couldn't keep my mouth from falling open. Staring incredulously at Anne, I did not know what to say. What could I say, really? "I cannot have you two become more acquainted, or else my brother will surely try to lay with you, then disappear into thin air when he's gotten bored." No, that would not do. I sighed, I suppose I would just have to write a letter to Émile myself, trying to talk him out of this. To think of it, I still had to read his letter to me.

Suddenly, I was shaken out of my thoughts by a hand that was waving in front of my face. 'Are you still there?'

'Yes, yes, I am sorry. I was just eh.. distracted.'

'So you do not mind the situation at all?' Adrienne asked me.

'What situation?'

'That of your brother and Anne,' she said slowly, as if I had all of the sudden become mentally retarded.

'Of course not. Why would I, even?' The voice in my head piped up immediately, but I ignored its answer. I already knew exactly why I _would_ mind. I would not voice any of these thoughts, however.

**Erik's point of view**

Erik paced around his lair, feeling more high strung than he knew he should. Yet, although his mind knew most likely nothing was wrong, his heart and body would not allow him to find any rest.

They day before he'd barely caught a glimpse of Angèlique; shortly after breakfast, she'd said her goodbyes to her friends and had left to catch up with her brother, then when she came back a couple of hours later, she'd seemed out of spirits and had gone to the dormitories immediately. His concern was peaked and he was about to move from behind the hidden panel into the room when a couple of ballet rats came in, laughing and giggling as they went, and didn't leave the room until dinner. After dinner – and after he'd attempted to calm his nerves – he'd ventured to their library, figuring she would join him there, as was their custom these days. He'd waited several hours, trying to aimlessly distract himself with poetry, but she'd never showed.

What if something was wrong? What if she didn't want to see him anymore? Had he done something wrong? Had she simply grown tired of him? Had she perhaps finally realized he was not good for her? Erik sighed, pulling at his hair in utter desperation. The thoughts alone were enough to drive him mad, but it was the sickening feeling in the pit of his stomach that made him want to scream against the cold, stone walls. He had to see her, he decided. Even if it would only be to hear her confirm his fears, he needed to see her.

Grabbing his coat, he dashed into one of the corridors and made his way to the surface.

**Hope you liked it! Shoutout to _PhantomFan01_, _EvaAuthor _and _michellecarriveau_!**


	55. Chapter 55

'Can I talk to you, Angèlique?'

Looking up from my bed – and Émile's letter that I'd been just about to open – I noticed how uncomfortable and… nervous she looked. Her fingers were playing with the fabric of her skirt, her posture was strained and her face twisted in distraught. I had never seen her looking like this before. In fact, she was normally the one putting all of us at ease; calm and collected, full of good advice and comforting words.

'Yes, of course,' I gestured for her to sit down.

'Privately, I mean..'

Frowning, I nodded and followed her out of the dormitories, putting the letter in my pocket to read later.

For most of the trip, she did not make any contact at all, apart from looking at me with anticipation once in a while. Soon, we were making our way up a winding staircase and after opening a door, into the fresh, Parisian air. The last traces of winter were finally disappearing and even the wind blew now without the sharp icy cold that I'd gotten so used to over the last few months.

Then, Anne turned to face me. 'I know I might be a little rash by telling you this, but I want to know your thoughts first.. before I act on anything. You see.. I..' the brunette looked down at her hands, that now lay intertwined in her lap 'I think I fell in love with your brother.' Her head turned a brilliant red. 'I know you don't like the idea, I saw the look on your face.. No, don't try to deny it, Angèlique.'

'No it's not like th…-'

'I know that you don't like it. But I just need to know if you can still treat me as a friend if I choose to pursue this, nonetheless. I am serious about this, my friend.´

I sighed 'I know you are, Anne.. but he's not. I am sorry, but I know my brother. He can be charming, flattering, but I also know him to be an Epicurean, someone who seeks out pleasure but avoids attachments. It's not that I don't wish you happiness, it's just that I don't wish you _that_..'

The brunette smiled 'He actually told me all of that himself. But I think you should read the letter he sent me for yourself.' Reaching into a pocket, she pulled out the envelope and handed it to me. 'He said he sent you a letter as well. Didn't he mention any of this?'

'Actually.. I really haven't had time to read it yet,' I said sheepishly, then opened the letter and scanned it over. I have to admit that before this one, I had never read any love letter – let alone one my brother had sent – but I had to say it sounded sincere enough. My brother, of course, was far too enthusiastic in stating his affections, making it all sound like a very sappy romantic novel. But, from what I had gathered so far, Anne didn't mind. In fact, she only swoon even more when I read his closing remarks out loud. '"Without you, today's feelings are but the dead, discarded remnants of my feelings yesterday.* With all my love, Émile Fournier."'

She smiled 'Now, come on, read your letter!'

Clearing my throat, I took out my own letter and was about to read out loud when my eye fell on the first sentence. As it was processing in my mind, I bit my lip and started to dread the rest of the letter. Apparently no pleasantries for me.

From the corner of my eye, I could see Anne's expectant gaze, but I pretended not to be aware of it. 'Dear sister,' Émile began his letter to me 'I had judged you to be a bit smarter than what situation you've gotten yourself into. I want you to know that I am in no way on terms with this, nor do I accept it, and I hope you realize that _maman_ and _papa_ will not be when they find out either. However – and know that I only say this because, despite your lack of judgment, I love you – I will remain silent about this to them. But when something happens, don't think I will hesitate for even a second to make this 'Ghost' wish he was never born.' Letting out a sigh, I glanced at my brunette friend, who luckily was unaware of the unpleasant content of _my_ letter. Currently, she was staring into the dark abyss below our feet, a faraway look on her face.

Catching sight of the next sentence of my letter, I smiled. 'Émile says, and I quote, "On another note, my dear sister, I want to ask for your advice. Yesterday at the Opera House, I saw the most beautiful woman that has ever graced the world with her existence. She looked like an absolute angel, with her brown, cascading locks of pure silk and her perfectly shaped face. In that moment, my heart stopped beating, I forgot how to breathe and learned to live all at once and I instantly knew she's the one, my beloved sister. As I sit here, all I can think about is her angelic voice, her beautiful eyes. All I can think about when I lay in bed at night is what it would feel like to hold her in my arms and to be able to fall asleep at the sound of her breathing. I love her, Angèlique. As strange as this may sound coming from me, I know it's true. I love her and I can't stand the idea of doing something wrong and losing her even before I ever had the chance to have her. And this is why I need you to tell me how to court her. Properly. Write me as soon as possible. Your dear brother, Émile."' I laughed, while putting the letter back in the envelope. 'I don't think you have to be afraid of him not returning your feelings.' On a more serious tone, I continued. 'But I sincerely hope he's as serious as you are and if so, I wish you two every bit of happiness in the world.'

'Thank you, my friend, this really means a lot to me. So, how was the catching up yesterday? Must have been nice to see him after such a long time.'

I bit my lip, racking my brain to come up with something even remotely credible. Then I sighed. 'We didn't.. Last Friday I received a letter from the Viscountess de Chagny, inviting me for tea. In her letter, she explicitly asked me not to tell anyone.'

'What did she want to talk about?'

'The Phantom. Apparently, she thought I was a victim and when I told her I was his friend she was somehow convinced even more of her own theory.'

Anne frowned 'So will she tell the police of his whereabouts?'

'I don't think so. In the end I think it got through to her that I was in this voluntarily, as a friend. Then she even offered her help if I would ever need it.' I laughed 'But the craziest thing happened when I was about to take my leave, Anne. Truthfully, I was about to declare the woman mad when she said this, but she suggested that I love him.'

Anne stayed silent for a moment, which surprised me, for I had expected her to laugh with me. 'Is that really such a strange suggestion? I mean, you care for him, don't you?'

'Yes, well, but he's my friend! Besides, he would never see something in a girl like me anyway. What could a simple girl like me have to offer to such a man?'

'Acceptance, perhaps?' She offered.

I shook my head. 'I am no Christine Daaé, Anne. I do not have the voice of an angel, I am not fragile and innocent. I am just _me_.'

'Well, maybe that's all he..-'

I would never find out how that sentence would end, for at that moment, a soft sound was heard from behind one of the statues. We strained our ears and at first, I thought it had merely been our imagination. But then, we heard it again; a shallow breathing, coming in short puffs as if the source had difficulty getting oxygen ito its lungs. Standing up softly, we inched closer to the statue, all the while trying our best not to make any sound as we went. And then we saw it; a halo of blond hair, encircling a small, pretty face. Meg.

The blonde jumped up when she saw us, her face blinking with tears in the moonlight. 'You both lied to me. I can't believe this. First _maman_, then you two. So much for friendship!'

And after that, before we could even get to say anything for explanation, she ran. I was about to run after her, when a hand on my shoulder stopped me.

'Just leave her for now. There's nothing either of us could say that would make it better.'

Nodding dazedly, I stared at the place where the blonde had disappeared, hoping that she would come around soon.

~

*** This sentence is taken from the French version of the movie The Fabulous Destiny of Amélie Poulain. I saw the movie a couple of days ago and thought this line was very very romantic.**

**I am sorry it took me a bit longer to get a new chapter up this week, but I was visiting a friend in Germany and I only came back yesterday. Nonetheless, I hope you liked it and I would love to hear your thoughts. Once again a special shoutout to _PhantomFan01_, _MorgaRoths_ and _michellecarriveau, _thank you for the reviews, you guys are amazing!**


	56. Chapter 56

The next day was spent in an awkward sort of silence. Although Anne and I still tried to get any kind of talking going, an atmosphere of uneasiness suffocated every bit of conversation and made our group spent most of the day in utter silence. Even Adrienne – who most of the time seemed to be oblivious to things as conflicts – was not her usual, cheerful self.

The center of all this unease was Meg, who made it a point to avoid talking to either Anne or me and even went as far as to avoid our presence in general. Every time we would try to address her, she would give us a strange look and turn away or just stand up and leave. When I had tried to talk to her about the problem – the Phantom, namely – she had flat out refused to listen. "If you choose to throw your life away, that's your choice. But don't try to drag me down with you." At this point, I was at a loss of what to do. Meg wouldn't listen to any reason and without getting to explain things she would not be able to come to any other conclusion than that she had come now. I was insane. That or I had a death wish. And as if that kind of self-diagnosis wasn't enough, I also lost a friend in the progress.

'I am going to bed,' Meg announced, then pushed back her chair and walked out of the room.

Staring at her retreating back, Adrienne shook her head. 'What's up with her today?'

'I don't know.. It will probably be better in the morning.'

The redhead looked at Anne, then at me and quirked an eyebrow. 'You two wouldn't know any more about it, would you?'

'No!'

'No!'

She looked at us skeptically, then huffed. 'Fine, if you don't want to let me in on your little secret, that's… fine! I didn't want to know anyway.' She viciously stabbed down on one of her peas, causing it to fly off her plate, across the table and into Anne's neckline.

A smile tugged at the redhead's lips, but she tried forcing it away. 'That wasn't even funny.'

**pagebreak~**

Later that evening, when I arrived at the private library, I dropped myself in own of the armchairs rather unceremoniously. I had had my share of cold stares and accusing looks for the day and I could take no more of it; if Meg hadn't been enough, Adrienne had also decided to hold on to her feelings of resentment.

At the sound of footsteps, I looked up from my thoughts just in time to see Erik close the panel in the wall. Unclasping his cloak, he threw the piece of fabric over the back of the other armchair, then sat down himself.

'Good evening_,_' I greeted him and turned back to the fire. I knew by now he preferred it when I didn't stare at him.

He mumbled back a response, but apart from that stayed silent. Minutes ticked by and with every passing second, I began to feel more agitated.

'What is it? Are you upset with me as well?'

'Why ever would I be?'

'I don't know, Meg and..-'

'Because you lied to me? Because you _forgot_ to tell me you were going out to meet Christine? No, I am not upset, I am livid.'

'I didn't tell you because you would only get angry if I did.'

He scoffed. 'Well, that plan worked out very well for you then.'

'I can't help it that you keep spying on me every chance you get.'

'I was looking for you! I had not seen you for days and I was worried. You know, as befits a good friend.'

'As opposed to me, then. If you had been listening at all during your eavesdropping, you would have heard me saying that I care for you.'

Erik let out a humorless chuckle 'Oh of course, more lies. Do you really think I would fall for such false, shallow flatteries?'

I crossed my arms before my chest and frowned. 'Would it really be that impossible to believe that I actually see you as a friend? Have I not proven enough to you that I care for you?' I sighed, in an attempt to calm myself. 'Erik, I meant every word I said. If you believe it or not is your choice, but I refuse to be seen as someone who maltreated their friend.'

'Well, if you meant everything you are even more foolish than I had originally thought.'

'How so?'

'Do you not remember? "What could a simple girl like me have to offer to such a man?" If that wasn't a lie than you truly are the stupidest girl I have ever met.'

'You are not as bad as you like to think you are.'

'Well, neither are you.'

'Thank you.. I guess..' I bit my lip, then sighed. 'But it really is true, you know. You are a musical genius, a talented artist, an intelligent man, and what am I? I can't sing, I can't draw, I am not beautiful nor special. I really am just a silly girl who learned the hard way she isn't the center of the world.'

A hand on my arm shook me out of my dark thoughts. 'I think you are pretty special, Angèlique. I might not be the person you want to hear these words from, nor be the best at expressing them, but if I had to choose one woman on this entire planet to spend the remainder of my life with, it would have been you. You were right; you're no Christine Daaé. You are real, you are strong, but most importantly; you saw past the Phantom when no one else ever did. You could see me for the man I could be, for the man I deep down so desperately longed to be.'

My breathing had ceased and at this point I was only staring at him in disbelief. I couldn't move, could hardly think, but I wanted to say something. Slowly, and with incredible effort, I lifted my left arm and placed my hand on his. My throat felt dry and I suddenly longed for a big glass of water.

'Oh forget it. I didn't mean to frighten you, I just tried to..-'

'Don't.' I swallowed. 'Don't take it back. I am just not very good at these things.. as you've probably noticed in the past,' I chuckled nervously, thinking back on the time I discussed my problems concerning Christophe with him. 'But well, I want you to know that if I had to choose one man, it would be you, too. I never realized it before, but it's so clear now. You are the only one I feel completely at ease with, the only one who never makes me feel strange or different for feeling the things I do. When I am with you, I forget about the world, I forget about my problems. It's just you and me.'

He smiled. 'Just you and me.' Silence ensued once again, but this time it was a comfortable silence. Lots of things had been said, lots of feelings been spoken, but it was alright. Yet, I had to break the quietude once more.

'Erik?'

He made a sound in response.

'Could you talk to Meg? I mean, I know it's a lot to ask, but she won't listen to me or Anne.'

'Yes, sure.'

'I just don't want to lose..-'

'I will, Angèlique, don't worry. It will be okay.' With his hand, he rubbed soothing circles on the back of my hand and I knew he was right. It would be okay.

**I am sorry this chapter took me so long and that, when I eventually posted it, it was so short. However, I hope I made up by the content. (: Anyways, let me know what you think. Special shout out to PhantomFan01, EvaAuthor and michellecarriveau for their reviews!**


	57. Chapter 57

**Erik's point of view**

Erik could hardly remember a time he had been this nervous. No, never mind that; he could not remember a time he had been nervous _at all_. Although there had been countless of times in his life when he should have been feeling jittery and high-strung – times he knew in hindsight he should have felt at least a bit uncertain about his course of action – it was an emotion he was unfamiliar with. He had read about it, though, and so it took him little effort to check off the symptoms. Shaky, sweating hands, an unwillingness to get the job at hand over with and a strange urge to run back to his lair. Yes, he was definitely nervous. Ridiculous, the voice inside his head chimed, you know you are, right?

'Oh, be silent, you,' he mumbled, not even really registering the insult fully. He knew he was being ridiculous; he had faced a lot scarier things than a teenage girl in his time. The gypsies, the assassins the shah had sent after him. Right now he would rather face them all at once than go into the vacant ballet studio. Honestly, what was he supposed to say to her? "I am sorry I kidnapped your best friend and set the Opera on fire, I hope you don't mind me spending time with your new best friend."

Erik sighed, there was no escaping this. He had promised Angèlique to do this for her. Besides, the young blonde was already on her way here, so it really was too late to blow the entire plan off. He stayed behind the hidden wall until the blonde entered the studio, then grabbed himself together and entered the room.

He had expected her to at least startle by his sudden appearance, but she did not so much as flinch. Fine then, he thought, at least I won't have to tie her down to get her to listen to me. _'Mademoiselle_ Giry, I am glad to see you have come.'

The young Giry snorted. 'I wish I could say the say, Phantom. If you came her to threaten me into keeping my mouth shut to the police, don't worry about that. I might want you dead, but I won't betray a friend's trust like that.' She crossed her delicate arms across her chest and stared upon him with a gaze of defiance. This clearly would be more difficult than he had hoped..

'Although it's good to hear you won't inform anyone of my existence, this is not why I asked you to meet me.' He sighed, trying to find the right words. 'I came here in behalf of Angèlique.'

She laughed humorlessly. 'So then you are here to threaten me into mending our friendship?'

Although he wanted nothing more than to snap at her, knock some sense into her little head, he stayed calm. If he raged at her now, all chances of making amends would be lost. 'I came here with no intention to threaten you into doing anything, _mademoiselle_. I merely came here with the hope you would perhaps listen to a man with a lot of regrets for the past, and perhaps a few hopes for his future.'

Meg nodded tightly, but didn't say anything.

'I know there is nothing I can say or do to make up for my past misdeeds. I have hurt _mademoiselle_ Daaé and her husband dearly and I can only hope that one day they will find it in themselves to forgive me, although they have every reason not to. But what's more important now, _mademoiselle_ Giry, is that I've hurt you, too. You lost a friend, a sister and there isn't any word the causer of this pain could say to heal your wounds.'

'This is not about me, Phantom, this is about Angèlique.'

'But you are angry with her because of what I did to you and your friends. That doesn't seem quite fair.'

'Well then, that really isn't my fault, is it?' She snapped. 'You brought my anger upon you, yourself. You can't expect me to suddenly forgive you, just because you come here with pretty words and beautiful promises. You can't undo the past and what you did to me, what you did to all of us at the Opera.'

Erik sighed. 'I don't want your forgiveness, _mademoiselle_, for I know I don't deserve it. You are right, I can't undo the past and I know I stand before you with nothing to prove my earnestness. But I can only beg you forgive Angèlique, when all she did was be a friend to someone who was in dire need of one. She did nothing to deserve your scorn and so I ask that if you must be angry, you will be angry with me.'

'So you ask me to forget the fact that she lets her soul be poisoned by you?'

'I ask you to be her friend, even though I will also be one to her.'

'I don't trust you.'

He shook his head 'I don't ask you to. Angèlique trusts me, that's all I need. Just have faith in her.'

She narrowed her eyes at him, then stuck up her chin. 'Cross the line once, Phantom, and I will lead the police right to you.'

Erik smiled sadly. 'I have no doubt you would.'

Meg Giry was a lot more like her mother than she would ever care to know and therefore, he kept that thought to himself.

**Hello dear readers. As you've probably noticed this chapter is really short. This is because I didn't actually plan to write this part, but then a review gave me the idea to do so anyway. However, since I already have a lot of action planned in the next chapter, I decided to make a small intermezzo here with the conversation between Erik and Meg. Don't worry, though, the next chapter will be up soon. I would like to thank all the people that sticked with me up until now and a special thanks to the people that reviewed chapter 56 (which, I might say, were a lot). So thanks to **_**EvaAuthor, MorgaRoths, michellecarriveau, PhantomPhan01, RedDeathLvr, AmeBlargh and the guest reviewer Elizabeth Stark.** _


	58. Chapter 58

I sat down at the table with two pieces of toast, some fresh juice and some marmalade; my favorite breakfast. The last few days I had been feeling good, wonderful even. Meg was no longer angry with me, Erik and I had come to a sort of understanding and to top it off, I had gotten the piece of prima ballerina in the new opera. Smiling, I watched as Adrienne made little faces on her toast with tomatoes and some onions. She really was one of a kind..

It was at this moment the doors to the dining hall burst open and Anne came running in. Bewildered, she looked around the room, then made her way up to us. 'Angèlique.. there's.. I just..'

'Calm down, Anne, I don't want you to work yourself into a cardiac arrest over something silly.'

The brunette shook her head 'The police are here..'

I dropped my toast on the plate, not caring that the bread was now glued to the plate because of the marmalade. Time seemed to freeze and I couldn't do anything but stare at her. Although she had not directly said it, I knew the implications behind my friend's words: they knew. And they would not stop before they had found their justice. Swallowing, I shook myself back to reality and nodded, realizing what I had to do. 'Come with me.'

'Can I come, too?'

Turning back to the redhead, I must admit I had completely forgotten about her for a moment. But now I had to make a decision, could I trust her? A second ticked by, then I replied 'Yes, but first I need you to get Meg, she's having lunch in her mother's living quarters. Tell her… tell her it's urgent. Meet me at the ballet studio.'

She nodded and without another word left the dining hall.

'Are they already inside?'

'Yes, when I saw them they were in the lobby, questioning some of the cleaning staff. They must have had a new lead on this case, otherwise they wouldn't have come back, not after so many years.'

'Which means; someone told them,' I concluded, then gritted my teeth. 'We have to help him, Anne.'

'What do you propose we do?'

I shrugged my shoulders 'I don't know, but I think he might.'

On our way to the ballet studio, we made sure we were not followed. What if the talebearer would find out where we were going? Looking at the people that passed us by, it was hard to imagine one of them might have just signed by friend's death sentence. I pushed that thought from my mind, I would not let him die.

When we arrived at the ballet studio, I noticed Adrienne and Meg already standing in the room, looking around curiously. Or well, Adrienne was; Meg just looked irritated. 'Why did you sent the little redhead to get me? I thought we'd all agreed that it would be good for me to spend some time with _maman_..'

'Not here, wait. Just.. follow me and do whatever I say, alright?' Walking up to the moving mirror, I flicked the switch and waited for it to disappear behind another. I heard some gasps from behind me, but decided not to pay attention to them. Now was not the time to explain Erik's ingenious design. 'Come on,' I urged when I noticed none of my friends had followed me into the dark passageway.

Anne was the first to take a step forward, her face a mixture of doubt and fear. Soon, Adrienne followed behind her, tugging Meg along by her arm.

When they had all filed in the passageway, I flicked the switch again and in mere seconds, we found ourselves in complete darkness. 'Alright, everyone take the hand of the one next to you. If I tell you to crouch, you crouch, if I tell you to jump, you jump, alright?'

The others murmured something incoherently, but I decided to take that as a yes. Slowly, I began making my way through the darkness. Sometimes I would warn the others for a missing floorboard or a height difference, but most of our trip was spent in silence. No one dared to question why I was leading them through the passage and no one dared to ask where we were heading.

When, at last, we arrived at the library, I could visibly see the others relax. Apparently I wasn't the only one who wasn't very fond of darkness.

'Why are we here?' Adrienne piped up, clearly having regained her normal composure.

'Where is _here, _anyway?' Meg added, looking around curiously.

'This is the hidden library.. We are here because.. well, apparently the police are here, looking for Er.. the Phantom of the Opera.' I swallowed, realizing Adrienne did not know anything at all. Not yet at least. 'And we need to stop them. Adrienne, I am sorry I didn't tell you this sooner, but I am friends with the Opera Ghost..'

She looked at me for a moment, then burst out in giggles. 'Do you think I did not know? I mean, I am not completely daft, you know?'

Meg, Anne and I just stared at her for a moment. Had she, the fifteen year-old who had always been treated like a child, really caught on without any of us telling her anything?

We would never ask that question out loud, though, for at that moment the hidden panel opened and Erik stepped in. Erik, in all his dark, tall and handsome glory, made quite the intimidating sight if he wanted to. And believe me, at that moment, he did.

'What are they all doing here?' He demanded to know.

'They are here to help me. The police is coming for you, Erik, and they won't stop until they've turned the entire Opera upside down. You can't stay here..'

'Wait.. the police? Why would they be here, after all this time?'

'Someone must have notified them of your existence,' Anne answered, simply. I was envious of her, for she looked more composed in the presence of Erik than I had the first time. And many times after that, I must admit.

Erik's eyes grew as cold as stone, then he turned to Meg, his jaw set. 'You.'

She scoffed 'As much as I would like to see you be brought to justice, I don't betray my friends.'

'Then who..-'

Suddenly, the blonde's eyes widened. 'No.. I can't believe.. Oh Angèlique, please forgive me, I was just so upset and I..' She held her face in her hands, then sighed, trying to collect herself. 'That night, when I ran away, I bumped into Veronique on my way back to the dormitories. And I was just so angry and hurt that I told her.. I told her everything.'

'You did what?!'

'Erik, please, calm down. Now is not the time.. We need to find a way to get you out of here.'

'Fine. So what do you suggest we do? I can't exactly just walk out of the front doors, you know.'

I furrowed my brows. 'We need a way to get you out of town unnoticed. But before that, we need to find a way to get you of the Opera.'

'There's a passage leading straight to the Rue Scribe.'

'How do you know?'

Meg smirked 'You're not the only one who grew up at the Opera House, Phantom.' She then sighed. 'Anyway, if we can get a carriage to pick him up there, we might get him past the police.'

'Would they just let a suspicious looking carriage, which has no reason to be there, pass – especially now they are already looking for him?' Anne asked.

'Not if the people in it are of enough importance as to not question their behaviour.. Adrienne, how fast do you think we can get your brother in Paris?'

'I don't know, two, three days perhaps?'

I shook my head 'No that's too long..' Suddenly, an idea formed itself in my head. I admit, it wasn't the best of ideas, nor was I sure the persons involved would even agree to do it, but it was the best shot we had. 'I know someone who can be here by tomorrow at noon.'

'Absolutely not!' Erik all but shouted, quickly getting on at what I was suggesting. 'I would rather die than be in one carriage with that fop!'

'This isn't about you, Phantom,' Adrienne said, crossing her arms before her chest. 'Angèlique would be completely miserable if you'd die and I won't do a miserable friend for the rest of my entire life!' She then turned to me. 'So, what can I do?'

'Well, the de Chagny's can only take him so far, but we need to get him out of Paris, so I need you to write Christophe, nonetheless. Ask him to meet the de Chagny's at the edge of town in two days.. oh and tell him we need a closed carriage. I will write Christine myself, so now all that we need is a diversion.'

**Hello dear readers, here's another chapter. This one isn't that short, right? Anyway, I feel obliged to tell you all that with this chapter, we are really nearing the end of the story. I think there will be two more real chapters after this and then an epilogue. I do hope you all enjoyed the ride and perhaps will read some of my stories in the future. I am currently thinking about a Harry Potter story of which I have already written the first four chapters. I, however, also am rewriting (and translating to English) a Twilight story that I wrote when I was fifteen or so, so yeah, I am not really sure what to do. Let me know what you are more interested in. It won't be a Phantom of the Opera story, in any case, because I have a rule of only writing one story per book/movie. I don't know, but I just don't like the idea of staying in the same universe, yet having to ditch my precious characters (really, Angèlique feels like a child haha) and having to write new ones. I just try to make the one story that I write as interesting and original as possible. Sorry for the long author's note, guys. Special shoutout to _MorgaRoths_, _PhantomFan01_, and _michellecarriveau _for the review!**


	59. Chapter 59

It was Thursday morning and, as per usual, we all sat at breakfast together. I had my usual toast with marmalade, but found I could not enjoy it at all. My stomach was tied in a knot and all I could think about was what would happen today – and mostly; what could go wrong.

'It will be alright,' Anne comforted me softly, putting a hand over mine. 'You'll see.'

'She's right, Angèlique. With my natural charm and amazing acting skills, what could possibly go wrong?'

'Very modest, Adrienne.' Meg sighed. 'I hate to say this, but I have no doubt your beloved Phantom will be safe by the end of the day.'

'I know, I just.. Well, I guess you are right, I am just..-'

'Nervous,' they simultaneously finished.

'We can manage. You just do your job, then we will do ours.'

I nodded, though their words had done nothing to sooth my nerves. Time would tell..

**Erik's point of view**

Erik hated waiting. And even more so; he hated waiting for something that was out of his control. It was now eight o'clock in the morning and he knew he still had to wait until noon until there would be any action at all for him. Not that sneaking out through a hidden passageway was really a lot of action – at least not for him – but sitting idly by made him more high-strung than any real action could.

Looking around him, he tried not to think of the fact that this might very likely be the last time he would ever be there. The last time he would sit at the lake, the last time he would let the mighty sounds of the organ echo against the large stone walls of his lair.

Stop it, one of the voices in his head sneered, you were forced down into these cellars, forced to live deep below the rest of humanity. This place was never your home, it was a refuge.

Reasonably, he knew the voice was right, yet he could not shake off the negative feeling in the pit of his stomach. A lot of memories had been made here – good and bad ones – and although none of them had led to his salvation, it caused him grief to leave his lair.

He sighed 'Might as well find myself some entertainment.' Then he stood and walked off towards the surface.

**Meg's point of view**

Meg sighed as she put on her pointe shoes and looked around the changing room. The ballerinas had just gotten back from a short break and would now go back to practicing until noon. In the break, she'd seen her friends sneaking off unnoticed, leaving her alone to her duty. Although only her three friends were absent, the changing room seemed a lot emptier without them. She really couldn't imagine a life without any of them and that was precisely the reason why she had agreed to help them to save the mad man. The blonde did not look forward to having to put her part of the plan in action, especially since her and her mother had just started on repairing their dysfunctional relationship. However, knowing that she could save a friend from a lifetime of misery, she would still carry through with it.

Sensing a presence beside her, Meg looked to the left, only to come face to face with the causer of all the mayhem; Veronique. Alright, perhaps she was not the causer of _all_ this mayhem, Meg thought, since the Phantom himself was actually to blame for his persecution in the first place.

'Where are the others?' Veronique asked her, looking around curiously.

'They are with the police for questioning,' she lied casually 'From what I have heard they are questioning everyone for anything that could lead them to the mad man.'

The timid girl nodded. 'That's good, I hope they catch him soon.' She stayed silent for a moment while she tied on her shoes. 'You know, my little brother died in the fire, he was only eight years old back then. I will never forget that tragic day and I hope that when the police is done with him, he will not either.'

Being at a loss for words, Meg simply patted her shoulder compassionately.

Fortunately then, they were all called out by the ballet mistress and it was time to start stretching. Before Meg could start with any of that though, she would first have to fulfill her part of the plan.

Quietly, she made her way past the other ballerinas and then cleared her throat. '_Maman_?'

The elder woman turned around, meeting her daughter's gaze with full force. 'Meg, why aren't you stretching?'

Almost cowering under her mother's gaze, it took all of Meg's will power not to look away or to go back on the plan. 'The police just came to take Adrienne Rousseau, Anne Martin and Angèlique Fournier for questioning, so they asked me to inform you that they won't make it to the rest of practice this morning.'

At the last name, _madame_ Giry face seemed to tense up. However, before Meg could think more of it, any trace of it was gone and back was the stern face that she knew so well. 'Very well, but if my ballerinas aren't ready for the opening night, I _will_ hold the police accountable for it.'

Meg nodded and then, relieved, got back to her place. That had gone better than she'd expected.

**Anne's point of view**

Anne nervously tapped her foot on the marble floor as they waited in the lobby. Although normally not one for letting her emotions cloud her judgment, today she too couldn't help but feel a little uneasy. The consequences of their plan if it were to go bad were severe, not just for Erik but for any of them. They would be lucky if they would get away without imprisonment. She would probably never see Émile again..

'Oh for the love of God, would you calm your nerves?' She heard from beside her.

Turning her head, she looked at the little redhead. In contrary to herself, she did not look nervous at all. In fact, she looked as excited and gay as ever.

'I feel like I am in one of those thrilling novels, you know? Getting dressed up in disguise, pretending to be someone else!'

Anne couldn't help but smile at the young girl's enthusiasm. There was some truth to Adrienne's words, though, for she too felt the adrenalin the plan caused rush through her veins. Looking down on her attire, she could hardly remember the last time she had looked so chic. Although she often dressed up to go into town or to a party, she now wore one of the dresses that her father had bought her for very special occasions. Add to that the fashionable hat that adorned her head and she would probably not even recognize herself were she to look in a mirror. She looked on the pocket watch that she'd held in her purse. 'It's a quarter to twelve, we need to get into position.'

Leisurely, and with an air she didn't even know she could muster, they glided through the front doors of the Opera. Outside, they were met with bright sunlight and a lot of policemen.

Anne could feel Adrienne's grip tighten on her arm, but the young girl never complained. She admired her for that. Instead, the redhead turned her chin in the air and struck up some conversation about fashion.

In this way they stood there, pretending to be waiting for a carriage that would never arrive. At ten minutes to twelve, she looked at the young girl and gave her a quick nod. It was time.

On cue, Adrienne looked behind her at the looming Opera House and touched her forehead weakly, before she fell to the ground. This act alone caused many an onlooker to turn their heads towards the commotion, but just for effect – and perhaps because she was terribly afraid their plan would fail – Anne let out a scream of terror.

It did not take long before a dozen policemen had crowded around the seemingly fainted young woman. Even some of the passerby paused at the small crowd to see what was going on, but Anne was too busy to notice any of them.

'What happened, _mademoiselle_?' One of the policemen wanted to know.

'I.. I don't know, _monsieur_. One second I was talking to my dear friend and the next she fell down to the floor,' she said, feigning panic. 'But when we left the Opera, she kept going on about a man in a dark cape who was following us. I thought she was merely joking, but just now she said she saw him again and then she fainted.'

He nodded, then softly whispered to one of his colleagues. 'Where did you say your friend saw this man, _mademoiselle_?'

She pretended to think, then pointed into the direction of the stables. 'She looked that way, I think. Why do you ask?'

He directed a couple of his men to the stables and another three stayed with him to take care of the unconscious girl. 'Nothing to worry about, _mademoiselle_, at least not for you. But we might have to bring your friend to a doctor, to see if he can find anything on her.'

At that exact moment, a deep breath intake was heard and Adrienne stirred on the ground. Slowly opening her eyes, she looked at the policemen that surrounded her, then sat up.

'Are you alright, _mademoiselle_?'

She nodded, then smiled apologetically 'I am sorry if I startled you _messieurs_.'

'Do you want us to take you to a doctor?'

'No, that won't be necessary, _monsieur_. I feel a lot better now, thank you for your help.' And with that, the two young women went back into the Opera.

**So my dear readers, this is already the second last chapter! I hope you have enjoyed it. My special thanks go to _michellecarriveau_, _PhantomFan01_, _ MorgaRoths,_ _EvaAuthor_ and_ canterwoodgames_ for their lovely reviews! Stay tuned for more, haha! **


	60. Chapter 60

Impatiently, I waited in the Rue Scribe. My hands were sweaty, my heart was pounding and all I could think about were a million ways in which our plan could go wrong. What if Anne and Adrienne had not managed to distract the police force's attention? What if they had arrested my dear friends and were now interrogating them, trying to get them to confess their involvement with the Opera Ghost? What if they had already caught Erik?

I forced myself to calm down. I was getting carried away, something that would only get us in trouble _were_ something actually to go wrong. Taking a look at the pocket watch I carried with me, I noticed it was only ten minutes to twelve. He still got plenty of time to get here, I told myself sternly. No need to get all worked up about it.

At that moment, a soft cough sounded from behind me.

Turning around, I found Erik leaning against the wall casually, as if he'd been there the whole time – which, if I think about it, he could have been, since he had this gift for sneaking around soundlessly.

'Good morning,' he greeted, pushing himself off the wall and coming to stand by my side. I noticed the single small bag that stood by his feet.

I nodded in return, then put a hand through my hair. I looked at the pocket watch again, seven to twelve. 'Heavens, I am completely losing my mind. I wish the carriage would just arrive already, so we could get this whole thing over with. Then again, I don't want to lo.. Oh never mind it, I am talking nonsense.'

He looked as if he didn't know what to say, then just put a hand on my shoulder. 'It will all be fine, I am sure.'

'I know, it's just… Is it weird if I'd say that I'll miss you?'

Erik smiled 'Very, but then again I have learned to not expect anything different from you.'

Giving him a small, friendly push, I smiled back 'Oh shut up you, I am serious! You have no idea how much I enjoyed our nights at the hearth fire, our talks, even our arguments! They might have been little things to you, but to me they actually mean a lot.'

He furrowed his brows – or at least the one visible to me – and shook his head, the smile displaced from his lips. 'I can't believe how you'd think that, especially after the talk we had..'

'I thought that was just you trying to be a good friend.'

'No, that was me being..-'

I would never know what he had been trying to be, though, as the clock of a nearby church chimed the hour. Twelve. Staring at the corner that hid the Rue de Scribe from direct view, we both willed the carriage of the Viscount and Viscountess to appear.

Seconds, minutes ticked by, but there was still no sign of the noble couple. Growing impatient, I tiptoed to the corner, then carefully peaked my head around it.

As had been the plan, most of the police force was busy searching the horse stables for any sign of the Phantom. However, there were also three officers talking to some people in a carriage. The de Chagnys, I realized. This certainly wasn't part of the plan..

Biting my lip, I tried thinking up a way to get those police officers to leave the carriage alone. Surely they wouldn't listen to a silly ballerina and I doubted they would fall for another young girl fainting in front of the Opera building.

'I thought you arranged _them_ to pick me up.'

'I did,' I said, grinding my teeth 'but they're being held up.'

'Then do something to stop them from being held up.'

Breathing in deeply, it took all my effort not to shout at him. 'I would do that if I had a plan. However, since I don't and you only seem to be planning on complaining, I will just have to keep thinking of one.' I didn't care how bold I sounded at that moment, I didn't care about anything really. All I wanted was to get Erik away, safe and sound.

'Get little Giry. I have a plan, but you can't do this on your own.'

Nodding only, I slipped around the back of the Opera house and ran until I reached the front doors again, quickly making my way inside and running all the way to the auditorium. Out of breathe, I fruitlessly tried to compose myself, then entered the back stage area. From my place between the ropes and props, I could already see the group of ballerinas practicing on the left side of the stage, leaving the right side empty for la Carlotta to parade on. Spotting Meg, I cautiously made my way over to the blonde, hoping not to catch the eye of the ballet mistress. To no avail, of course.

'Ah, _mademoiselle _Fournier, how good of you to join us. You can take a place beside _mademoiselles_ Martin and Rousseau, who arrived mere minutes before you.'

'No, _madame_! I mean, eh.. I can't.. the police.. they sent me to get Meg. For questioning, you see. Asked me to escort her.'

For a good, long moment, the ballet mistress scrutinized me under her stern gaze, then nodded. 'Very well, I expect you to be back in ten minutes though, Angèlique.'

Nodding, I pulled Meg from the stage with me. Then, when we were out of sight for the dancers, I started running.

'Angèlique, hold on. Where are we going? Aren't we through with the plan?' Meg panted, trying to keep up with me.

'Complications,' I merely said, knowing that trying to explain everything would only cost us more time. Time that was now very valuable.

Rushing outside, into broad daylight, I quickly pulled Meg into the shadow and around the corner into the Rue Scribe.

Now we had come to a stop, Meg straightened out her ballet costume, then arched an eyebrow at the sight of Erik. 'Ah, so I see you are still here as well. How unfortunate.'

I rolled my eyes. Now was not the time for childish behaviour.

Erik – thankfully – ignored her words. 'I just looked around the corner and they are still questioning the fop. So now what you've got to do is..-'

For the second time that day, I would never hear what Erik actually wanted to say, for at that moment a voice – a terribly familiar voice – called his name. 'Erik?' She stepped closer to us, her arms crossed over her chest. 'Of course it was you who was keeping my ballerinas out of practice.'

'_Maman_ please, it's…-'

'No Meg, I don't need your explanation. I know exactly what is going on here and although I do not approve of it..' She sighed 'am I proud of you, Meg. You helped a friend in need, even when that meant breaking the rules.' For a moment she stayed silent, then she added: 'Perhaps then you can now finally understand why I did what I did.'

'Antoinette, this really isn't the time for getting sentimental..'

'Oh be silent, Erik. I take it that you are trying to get the carriage of the Viscount here?'

Flabbergasted, we all stared at the older woman for a second. I was about to wonder whether I had not just misheard her, when she stuck her chin in the air.

'Well do you want my help or don't you?'

'Yes, Antoinette, but..-'

She held up a hand, something even Erik didn't dare to defy. 'Give me five minutes.'

As she disappeared around the corner, Meg and I shared a look of pure bewilderment. Who would have known that Antoinette Giry, the stern ballet mistress, would in the end the one to help us out?

'Well.. that was highly unexpected,' Erik said, sounding equally surprised.

'I don't like agreeing with you, Phantom, but for once, I think you are right.'

I smiled, just as a carriage rounded the corner, coming to a halt in front of us. When the window opened, I recognized the face of pretty of Christine, across from her sitting a handsome young man I did not know. The Viscount, I guessed.

'Thank you once again for coming to our aid, Viscount and Viscountess. There truly isn't a way in which I can repay you.'

Christine smiled at me, a genuine smile 'You've already done more than enough, believe me.'

Her husband, who had been staring at Erik with a look of contempt up until now, also smiled at me. 'You are welcome, _mademoiselle_.' Opening the carriage door, he went to grab Erik's bag, but he had only taken one step when the bag was thrust on the luggage rack on the back of the cart.

Turning around, Erik looked at us with a difficult expression. Then, as if it cost him great effort saying those words he said 'Thank you. For everything.'

He was about to turn around when I grabbed hold of his arm and flung myself around his neck. Holding on to him for dear life, I closed my eyes for a moment and simply reveled in the sensation. Realization hit me with full force that this might very well be the last time that I would ever see him and a lump formed itself in my throat.

Pulling away, I looked at his face, seeing he, too, looked affected by our farewell. 'Erik.. I should have said this sooner, but I lov..-'

He held up a finger to my lips. 'Don't, please..'

I only nodded, knowing that if I would say anything the tears, now only pooling in my eyes, would spill. I slowly let go of him, counter to what my heart was screaming, and took another step back.

He gave me a sad smile, then, after one last look, stepped into the carriage. As he took the seat by the window, I took in the last view I would ever have of him.

Then, as the carriage drove off, I knew my life would never be the same again without him. The Phantom. The Opera Ghost. _Erik_.

**Alright, so this was the last real chapter of this story. I hope you all enjoyed it, even though it was kind of sad. Also, I want to appologize for taking so long to write this chapter. I was actually in the progress of taking out all the French parts in this entire story and correcting spelling/grammar mistakes. I wanted to finish this before writing this chapter, but then decided it would take to long, so I just wrote this first. The story is now completely updated, so I hope it will be a bit more readable for future readers (or current readers who decide to reread). For everyone who thinks this story is over, don't forget there will still be a epilogue so I suggest you stay tuned. Once again I want to do a shout out to all my readers and especially to _CeruleanKiss_, _MorgaRoths, PhantomFan01, EvaAuthor _and _michellecarriveau _for leaving me those sweet reviews. I love you all!**


	61. Epilogue

I couldn't remember ever having been so glad to go home. Or well glad.. relieved was a better way to describe it, I suppose. I hadn't felt glad in a long time. The last few months had been Hell to me. Although I had managed to become a permanent prima ballerina, had gotten back into the good graces of _madame_ Giry and there had been no more bad feelings among our little group of friends anymore, I had felt empty. Numb.

I would often sit in the private library for the entire night, waiting for Erik to seat himself beside me. But he would never come. On the days that I did actually go to bed, I would have nightmares, some of which even continued throughout the day. The others noticed of course, but after some time knew it was best not to say anything about it.

Two days after I had seen Erik for the last time I received a letter from Christophe. It had been a brief letter, only stating that they had made it safely out of Paris and that I shouldn't worry. I had immediately written an answer, but had never gotten something back.

The last months to summer had ticked by at an excruciatingly slow rate, but now that it was finally here, I wasn't quite so sure anymore if I wanted to go home after all.  
>'It will be alright, Angèlique, I am sure the fresh air and change of scenery will do you some good.' Anne said, squeezing my hand. Of all of them, she was the only one still trying to cheer me up.<p>

I forced my lips into a smile 'I know.' Looking out of the window again, I already started recognizing my surroundings. We were almost home. I sighed. In a way I was glad that Anne had come with me – even though she was not really there to help me, but more so to be officially introduced to my family as my brother's fiancé – if only because then I wouldn't have to face the questions alone. God knew my mother would never let go of the topic of my love life.

Suddenly, the carriage came to a halt and I knew it was time. Straightening out my dress, I waited for the driver to open the door and then slowly walked up to the house. I could hear Anne's soft footfalls behind me, assuring me that I was not alone. Taking a breath, I knocked on the door.

Not even a second went by before the door burst open and Madeleine – my dear, sweet Madeleine – threw herself in my arms. Hugging her tightly, I noticed by touch alone how much she had grown.

Then, as fast as she had jumped me, she let go and looked shyly at the brunette girl behind me. She didn't get to say anything, though, for at that moment an older woman appeared behind her, shaking her head.

'Madeleine, won't you let them come in, dear? I am sure they've had a long journey and are tired.' Stepping aside, my mother gestured us in.

Taking the baggage from the driver, I thanked and paid him and then followed Anne over the doorstep. When I passed my mother, she looked me up and down with a smile.  
>'You have become such a beautiful young woman, I almost can't believe that you are the same girl that left here a year ago.'<p>

Smiling at her kind words, I let myself be enveloped by my mother's embrace and sighed contently. For a moment, everything seemed the way it should be. Then, as we broke away, reality forced its way back into my mind and the smile disappeared from my face.

Following the others to our small, but nonetheless homely living room, I noticed my father sitting in his favorite armchair. Beside him, on the couch, sat Émile, whose face lit up as he saw his future bride.

After having hugged my father as well I sat down in another armchair, staring into the cup of tea _maman_ had just poured me. I bit my lip as the topic of Émile and Anne's upcoming wedding came up. Not that I didn't wish them happiness, but it just made the realization even more painful that I would never have any of that. The only man I had ever wanted to be with was Erik and I had realized that too late. Now all I could derive happiness from was the idea that he, at least, was safe. Far away from the Opera Populaire, he might even finally find peace. Yes, that was all I could hope for as far as my own happiness was concerned.

'Angèlique? Angèlique? Are you even listening?'

Looking up from my tea – and more precisely; my burdening thoughts – I was met with a room full of people staring at me expectantly.

'I am sorry.. what were we talking about, _maman_?'

'The wedding, dear..'

'What wedding?'

'Your brother and his fiancée's of course! Good Heavens, when did you become so easily distracted?'

'I am sure she is just tired from her journey, mother,' Émile cut in. I had no doubt Anne had filled him in on my mental state the last few months.

'I am..'

'Well that surely is a shame, then, for I recall that we will have another guest over for dinner. In fact, if I am not mistaken I can see the carriage stopping just now.' My father chuckled, good-heartedly.

A knock on the door followed mere seconds later and my brother got up to open the door. Voices sounded from the hallway, but I couldn't make out who the other person was. Perhaps a friend of my brother's..

However, as Émile stepped back in the living room, he was followed by no one else but Christophe Rousseau. Taking of his high hat, he bowed and offered a friendly smile to the attendees, then walked up to Anne. 'I believe a congratulations is in order?'

The brunette smiled 'It is indeed, thank you.'

'I am sure you won't need any of my best wishes, but I wanted to give them to you anyway.' Then, he turned to me. 'Angèlique, how good it is to see you again. I trust you are in good health?'

Nodding, I couldn't help but be delighted by the surprise of seeing my friend again. 'Very good, thank you. And you yourself?'

'I am glad to hear so. I am as well, apart from some stress, but nothing too serious. Besides, that is why I am here anyway, in the hopes that you might be able to relieve me of some of it.'

At first, I did not notice that the rest of the room had fallen silent, and that they were all staring at something behind_ monsieur_ Rousseau. In fact, I was honestly concerned about what could have caused my worry-free friend to be in such stress. That is, however, until I followed the gazes of the others to the doorway, where my eyes connected with a familiar sight. My mouth fell open and for what felt like an eternity, I could only stare.

'He really was a pain in the ass at times, but that is your problem now, I suppose,' Christophe grinned.

That is when the full force of reality finally hit me and, flying past him, I ran for the masked man standing in the doorway. Throwing myself around his neck, I could not care even a little about what the others thought. Heavens, I could not even care about what my parents thought. Tears welled up in my eyes and I tightened my grip on the fabric of his dress coat, determined to never let him go anymore.

'Angèlique, it would be great to get some air,' his wonderful, perfect voice whispered in my ear and with great reluctance, I pulled back.

'You're horrible,' I commented smilingly, the tears now freely flowing down my cheeks.

'I know.'

Wiping away the tear stains on my cheeks, I took hold of his arm and turned to my parents. '_Papa_,_ maman_, this is Erik.'

Realization sparked in my mother's eyes and she smiled knowingly. 'It is good to meet you, Erik. We've heard so much about you.'

To say that Erik was surprised about this was an understatement and it was easy to hear that it had thrown him off. 'I.. eh.. thank you, _madame _Fournier.'

'It is nice to meet you, _monsieur_. My son told me you are an artist, is that true?'

'Yes, _monsieur_.'

'I don't know if my daughter has ever told you about this, but I am a tailor myself, so it's wonderful to have a fellow artist in the family.'

'_Papa_!' I cried out, but with no result. My family was determined to make a fool out of themselves.

'Tailoring is indeed a form of fine art, _monsieur_. I must confess that I myself have not mastered the art completely, since there are only so many hours in a day and so many other things that I wished to learn, but I would be very happy to improve myself on this point.'

My father smiled at him, then looked at me approvingly.

It was at this moment that Christophe decided to speak again. 'Very well, I believe it's time for me to take my leave.'

'Won't you stay for dinner?' I asked him, ashamed of myself that I had completely forgotten about his presence for a moment.

He shook his head, smiling sadly 'I am afraid I have obligations to be elsewhere. _Monsieur _and _madame_ Fournier, thank you for having me, I will let myself out.' With that – and a wave of his hat – he left.

'Angèlique, why don't you show the neighborhood to _monsieur_…'

'It's just Erik,' he politely said, charming my mother even more than he already had.

'Very well, _Erik_.'

I nodded, gesturing Erik to follow me. As we left the house, neither of us said a word. As charming as he could be when he wanted – as charming as he had just been to my parents – as silent was he now to me. I took this opportunity to study him.

On first sight, he looked pretty much the same as he had when I'd last seen him. His dark hair was slicked back, he was dressed in a black dress pants, coat and a white shirt and of course the white mask that covered half of his face. It struck me as surprising that no one had brought it up yet, though I was sure they would do so before the day was over. I was just glad that they hadn't just yet. Anyways, on closer study, I noticed he looked younger, healthier even. He looked as if a weight had been lifted off of his shoulders, as if he had indeed – as I'd hoped – found peace outside of Paris.

'Why have you come?' I asked him, finally breaking the silence.

'I missed you,' he answered simply, as if it were such a logical thing.

'Then why didn't you write me? Why didn't you ask Christophe to at least tell me how you were doing? I was worried, you know!'

He sighed, looking down. 'Because at first I thought you deserved better.'

My face softened at hearing the confession. 'What made you change your mind?'

'Your friend, for one thing.' He laughed. 'He wouldn't stop urging me to go to you. I don't know if that was because he wanted to help or if he was just desperate to get rid of me, though.'

'What's the other thing?'

'That I didn't. I just realized that I couldn't live without seeing you and that I was too selfish to do what was right.'

Taking hold of his hand, I squeezed it softly. 'You _did_ do what was right.'

Silence ensued once more and I absent-mindedly looked at the houses we passed. Erik, too, was engaged in thought and I couldn't help but wonder what he was thinking about. Could it be the same thing that was currently occupying my thoughts? 'So what does this mean?'

'What does?'

'That you came.'

He sighed, running his free hand through is hair. 'I don't know really. All I know is that I had to see you, or I would go mad. And now I am here, I never want to leave anymore.'

'Then don't.'

He smiled sadly. 'I am selfish, Angèlique, but not so much that I would force myself into your life as I did to Christine.'

I sighed 'Erik, I know I am nothing special, but I want you to know that I still stand by my feelings. I still love you. And although you might not feel the same way, might only see me as a friend, I still wanted you to know..' Staring down at my hands, I tried to swallow the lump in my throat, dreading the rejection that would soon follow. 'Just forget wha..-'

'I love you, too.'

Looking up, I stared at him in utter shock. For a moment, I doubted my own mind, suspecting it to have made up things so I would not be disappointed. But then I saw the look in his eyes, the smile that graced his beautifully sculpted lips and couldn't help but offer him a smile of my own.

Without thinking about it, I went to stand on my toes, bringing me to eye-level with him, and pressed my lips against his, savoring the soft, warm feel of them. They were the lips of an angel, nay a phantom, and I knew at that moment that I would never want to kiss any other lips than those.

Pulling back, I laid my head against his chest, listening to the beating of his heart. 'I really do love you, _monsieur_.'

I heard him laugh 'And I love you, _mademoiselle_. But are you sure you want to be in love with the Phantom of the Opera.'

'No,' I said, shaking my head 'I want to be in love with Erik.'

And so it was settled. A new beginning to an exciting life. And I was glad I would get to spend it with Erik. For despite his flaws, he was the only one who knew me through and through. He knew how to make me cry, how to make me smile, how to make me happy. But most of all: he knew how to make me feel alive. He still sang to me in my sleep, he still came to me in my dreams, but now he was also there when I would wake up in the morning. He would not just make me feel at ease in the night, but would also stand by my side at day. He was not just a ghost in the shadows anymore, but the man that I would have by my side for every day for the rest of my life.

I know they say that happy endings only happen in stories for children, but I knew at that moment that my tale, too, had gotten one. Only was this not the ending. It was the beginning..

**~**

**And this is the end! I want to thank all of my readers for sticking up with me, for never giving up on this story no matter how boring it got and simply for reading! I don't know about you guys, but I surely am going to miss this story. I have been working on this for so long that it will be difficult to move on. However, I do plan to keep writing, so for those who enjoy my writing style, favorite/follow me and you'll be sure not to miss any of it. For the very last time, I want to thank _PhantomFan01, michellecarriveau, MorgaRoths and CeruleanKiss _for their reviews, I really do love you, and a special shoutout to _EvaAuthor_, who wrote the 200th review for this story. Knowing that there were people out there who enjoyed my story really made this story what it is. So thank you, for if not for all of you, this story would probably not be here. So I suppose this really is the end, no matter for how long I try to keep talking. Know that there is one more install after the epilogue. As will be mentioned at the beginning, this is not a chapter to _En Position_, rather it's a Phantom experience I wanted to share with all of you! Once again, thank you for everything guys, I love you!**


	62. The truth about the Phantom of the Opera

Dear readers,

This is not a chapter of the _En Position_ narrative, but is an experience I – as a writer, but mostly as a fellow Phantom enthusiast – want to share with you.

As a present for our two year anniversary, my boyfriend took me to Paris for the weekend, because he knows how obsessed I am with the Phantom. Therefore, apart from doing the typically tourist things people do in Paris, we also visited the Opera Populaire – or Garnier Palais, if you will.

For anyone who is ever planning on going to Paris, I highly recommend you to visit the Opera building. Even if one is not interested in the story of the Phantom of the Opera, the building's architecture is magnificent, so you can also take your mother, friend or boyfriend/girlfriend if they are not as enthralled by the Phantom of the Opera as you are. If you are visiting, I strongly advise you to take the guided tour (there are tours in English, although I must say the tour guide's accent was horrible!) because the guide really explains a lot about the building in general, but also about the story of the Phantom of the Opera.

I must say I was at first rather disappointed that we wouldn't get to see things like the dormitories or for example the catacombs of the Opera House or box 5 from the inside, but I suppose it is rather understandable that they won't show you those, especially if you take into consideration that the Opera Populaire is still used to perform ballet.

Now, to get to the point, I want to share with you what the tour guide told us about the affairs concerning the Opera Ghost. The story that I will add below is completely written out of my recollections of the tour. Therefore it is possible that I get some of the smaller details wrong, but most of the large story line is correct.

**The true story of the Phantom of the Opera**

There once was a composer, apparently of great talent, who inspired his compositions about love on his muse; a young ballerina, who was part of the Ballet and Opera company. This company at the time resided at the Salle Le Peletier, which was the main Opera House of Paris at the time.

In the night of 29 October, in the year of 1873, a tragic fire destroyed the Opera House, as it had done to so many of its predecessors. The young ballerina died and the composer, both mentally and physically scarred, lost his mind. Now with a severely burned face and with despair in his heart, he left the Opera company and took refuge in the catacombs underneath the newly built Palais Garnier, which was inaugurated in the year of 1875. Here he lived, it is said, until he died.

Meanwhile, we know from fact that in the Opera Populaire – now the main Opera House since the Salle Le Peletier had burned down – several small accidents happened. Although it was never proved, these incidents were credited to the scarred composer living underneath the Opera House – now also referred to by some as the _Fantôme_ or Ghost. These accidents included, for example, the partial fall of the chandelier in 1896 in the auditorium. Although, as is shown in the movie, it did not collapse on the public completely, one person was killed in the act; a woman, sitting on chair number 13. Another incident occurred later, in which a stagehand was found dead. Hanged. A third – and last, for the present being – incident happened when a couple of ballerinas fell from the stairs, from step number 13. All these accidents, and many more I assure you, were attributed to the Phantom of the Opera, even though evidence was never found.

If one were to wander about the Opera Populaire, one would find that when nearing the Emperor's box (which was never used by the emperor by the way), the door next to his, marking box number five, shows an extra message to the passersby. '_Loge du Fantôme de l'Opera'._ Next to the amount of seats in the box and the box number another plate holds the word '_Louée' – _or 'rented' in English. This box, no matter how much one is willing to pay, to this day is never rented to anyone, due to the belief that it is still rented by the Phantom.

All these things, and undoubtedly many more, give rise to the conclusion that the Phantom of the Opera, both the story and the man himself, are in some way real. A man _did_ live under the Opera House, his life _was_ one of misery and pain and he _did_ lose the one woman he loved. Whether his name really was Erik, we shall probably never know, nor shall we know if he was the Opera Ghost we today believe him to be. But it is truth that up until this very day the staff at the Garnier Palais attribute certain incidents to the man that is known to us as the Phantom of the Opera and perhaps, that is enough to keep the hope in all of us alive.

(On my profile, I will post the link to a picture I took from box 5)


End file.
